


Indigo Child

by Kaiottic_Rawr



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, Depression, Hurt/Comfort, Laura is awesome, M/M, Meatball - Freeform, Medium Stiles, Scotts a bit useless, Spark, Spark Stiles, Suicidal Thoughts, laura causes trouble, peters not so bad, possible angst, slowburn, sterek, stiles is actually amazing, talking with the dead
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-14
Updated: 2016-06-05
Packaged: 2018-06-02 05:51:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 44,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6553543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaiottic_Rawr/pseuds/Kaiottic_Rawr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Stiles was a kid he use to have a lot of 'imaginary' friends. He never thought much of it, it was something he grew out of...or did he.<br/>What happens when the pretty girl he keeps seeing in his dreams ends up being the dead body he found in the woods months previous.  How can he see Laura Hale and why does she keep getting him in trouble with Derek!?!</p><p>Or the one where Stiles starts to communicate with the dead again but thinks he's going insane and is in denial.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Just A Boy

**Author's Note:**

> So I want to practise my writing and love a good TW fanfic, I have a lot of ideas with this one.  
> This is a little taste to what I'm hoping will be something lovely. The next part will be from Stiles perspective I just wanted to use the Sheriff to lay the foundation.  
> Feel free to leave a comment and let me know what you think.  
> I'm not 100% on what I'm doing with this one yet but fingers crossed it works out. :)

John Stilinski knew that from a young age his child was special. He knows most parents say their kid is special no matter what, but he didn’t mean just special because Stiles was his. No, he meant special because he had a gift. At the time Stiles didn’t really understand what he was talking about, he was just like every other little boy. But what he didn’t realise was that Mrs Walker who use to always wave at him from her porch next door, had died 3 years previous. He never realised that his mums old cat Noodle who came and visited sometimes, curling up with him to sleep was Claudia’s long passed childhood pet. He even use to play with a little boy down the road that none of the other kids seemed to know and that he himself recognised the description of from a case he worked on 5 years before Stiles was born.  
Claudia and him always smiled and let him babble on about the new person he spoke to or the old dog that lived in the shed. Differentiating between their reality and the two of his was difficult at times but Claudia had grown up with her grandma who also had the spark. She knew her son was an old soul and explained to John about the important role their son would have in the future. He knew she meant well but he never was 100% sure that this was real, that this wasn’t just an overactive imagination or mere coincidence at some points.

The night Claudia died, something changed. He had been a mess, Stiles was in shock and neither knew what to do with themselves. He’d pulled his tear faced boy into bed with him that night and held him whilst they both cried and Stiles finally fell asleep. The next few months where the hardest of his life. He lost the love of his life and his son lost his mother. He was never as good with Stiles as she was, she knew how to handle the other side of him more then he could even comprehend. Stiles was lost, he was tired and most worrying he was quiet. He barely spoke and looked as if the light had been taken from him. No matter how hard he tried, Stiles was still barely talking. He lost it one night and yelled at Stiles for the first time in years. He just wanted his son back, he lost someone as well, he was grieving and he just didn’t know what to do anymore. It was one of the darkest moments in his life and he still feels guilty about it. He broke down crying in front of his son straight after sliding down the wall, his head in his hands as he shook and instead of running, crying or any other reaction a grief stricken child could have had he did the complete opposite. He walked up to him and hugged him. He always knew Stiles was different, he knew he held so much love in his tiny heart, but this broke the man further for he should be the one hugging Stiles.

“It’s okay dad…Mum said you’re allowed to be sad too. You’re allowed to hurt too.” Stiles mumbled into his father’s sleeve.

He was shocked and vaguely recalls responding in kind.

Stiles just looked at him with his big doe eyes and with the first smile he had seen since before Claudia passed…He looked at him like he knew something that John just couldn’t get. Like he had a secret key to get passed the grief, even just for a moment. 

“Mum said we have each other and we have a lot more misc-mis-mich…” He struggled.

“Monkey business?”John put forth, understanding his sons train of thought. It was his mother’s favoured word when Stiles was younger and they got into mischief. John wasn’t always present for his son’s shenanigans but there was a letter box painting incident they don’t talk about…among other things.

Stiles rewarded him with another warm smile as john opened up his arms and returned his sons affection.

“Yeah, monkey business…Mum said she will always be right here.” Stiles followed the last statement by pointing at John’s heart. 

The gesture broke something in him. He couldn’t help it…John started crying again. But this time it was with a smile on his face and a warmth in his heart he hadn’t felt in a while. It was hope. Somehow they would get through this and everything would be okay because Claudia was right, they had each other.

 

Time passed slowly but life carried on. Stiles started spending time with his best friend Scott again and Melissa McCall become an even more present member in Johns life. He started picking up more work again and Melissa gladly took Stiles on as a second son as he did with Scott, both sharing the parent responsibilities whilst they juggled busy work schedules. It was nice having another Adult in his life who he could rely on, even if it took some time to get use to as he didn’t want to replace Claudia. Not that his relationship with Melissa was anything but platonic. She was dealing with her own dark cloud after kicking Scott’s dad to the curb not long after his own wife’s death. It was a mutual understanding of sorts. They were both grieving in different ways but didn’t see the need to talk about it like the rest of the town would seem to think. Melissa was good friends with Claudia, they had both gone to the same ‘Mommy meetings’. Needless to say when the kids hit it off they were ecstatic, more play dates meant more mummy time as well. 

Even though things were on the mend John was always a little concerned about Stiles lack of special encounters so to speak. The comments and unusual conversations teetered off as he grew up and it always made him wonder if he had imagined that stage in his life. He would never admit to miss hearing about what Claudia called his past lives. One of his favourites being that he was a teenage ballet dancer who had pretty shoes but sore feet. Apparently he got sick and died though so he never got to show the handsome prince his dance. It was an interesting one Claudia and he shared a look over that’s for sure. The way he spoke of death as it was just another page in his book was also…unusual. But trust his son to be anything but normal. Soon Stiles started talking about girls instead of video games. Well, more like alongside and John became Sheriff. Stiles still got up to monkey business, usually with Scott. The Sheriff was kept busy with work and tried his best to fit in his family time with Stiles, who had school and a social life his old man apparently just wouldn’t understand. They fought time to time, but it was normal teenage stuff and never lasted long. They found their own normal.

Once in a blue moon John would remember the books Claudia had left for Stiles to read when he was old enough. The Sheriff never wanted to bring it up as Stiles was struggling with school enough and fitting in, especially whilst grieving such a loss. The old chest sat in the attic with a few of Claudia’s old possessions that he couldn’t quite get rid of. He would smile to himself and remember his wife fondly doting on Stiles and encouraging his gifts. Stiles never really spoke about it, John wasn’t even sure if he remembers. He’d heard that sometimes when people go through hard times as a child, they suppress a lot of memories as an adult to deal with it. He figured it might be something like that and if he even doubted himself and thought he should bring it up something would happen and for whatever reason the conversation was never had. In the end John decided to cross that bridge if/when they come to it. For now though, he would keep busy trying to keep him out of this worlds troubles, his son had a special talent for getting himself into those as well.


	2. Before The Worst

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles struggles with his sanity.

Stiles couldn’t remember the last time he had a good night’s sleep. It had been a couple weeks since Scott turned into a werewolf and his world got tipped over. He somehow managed to get Scott and himself through the worst of it. The fact Allison was Scott’s anchor after everything still annoys him. What’s he going to do if she isn’t around, it’s just so impractical. But trust Scott to fall hopelessly in love and not think twice of it. 

So the world of Supernatural beings had been opened to the young boys, and if it wasn’t for Scott and his obvious body hair problem he would have thought he was insane a long time ago. The problem is, he still thinks he might be going insane…

It first started with dreams.

When they found Laura Hales body in the woods near the old abandoned (Not so abandoned) Hale house, Stiles never realised just what the consequences would be. He got Derek locked up and thought things would work there due course. He was wrong, offcourse. Fate wasn’t fond of him, he is sure. He’d woken up that night after a practically ominous dream with Derek’s older sister. She wasn’t happy with him and the trouble he got Derek into. She was beautiful – no surprise there- with a wicked sense of humour and tongue that could run laps around Stiles. He was stunned, but chalked it up to lack of sleep and too much sugar in his diet. He couldn’t remember exactly what she said to him but he knew she wasn’t happy and she wanted him to help her brother, not incarcerate him.

He ignored the black haired beauty in his dreams for his current life of real drama. They found out Alison’s father is a Hunter- off course he is- and apparently Alison has no idea. Stiles couldn’t believe she was so oblivious to such a big aspect of her family’s life. Trust Scott to get a classic Romeo and Juliet high school romance first go. He loved his friend but sometimes he thinks life would be easier if Scott thought a bit more like Stiles. He guesses they wouldn’t be the amazing duo they are if it was any other way though, as much as it sometimes pains him, especially now he’s been put on the back burner. Lydia Martin still ignores him but Jackson Whittemore is ever more persistent and present in his life. Which if he is honest is just annoying as hell, that’s Jackson though. Grade A Arsehole. 

Stiles wasn’t stupid, Jackson had issues for a reasons, i.e being adopted. It didn’t mean it hurt less when he was an arse, but Stiles had this thing called a conscious that sometimes made him feel guilty when he would burn Jackson after being a dick. Only sometimes though. 

Derek kept popping up out of nowhere. The grumpy wolf was still a little sour about the whole jail thing… Stiles didn’t know why, I mean he was just trying to be a Good Samaritan. He’s full of threats and likes to push Stiles into walls most of the time. They have an interesting acquaintanceship…  
He never brought up Laura and why would he. 'Hay your dead sister comes to me in my dreams' just doesn’t feel like it would go over well right before a life or death situation. Or any situation really.

He saved the wolfs life one day after he got shot with wolfsbane and turned up at his school. He realised then that when Laura had said he was alone, she really meant it. As much as Derek could be a dick, to come to Stiles and Scott wouldn’t have been an easy decision for the dying Beta. He still wonders how many less severe injuries the older wolf had gone through alone because of his seclusion. Turns out though, he had the balls to cut of someone’s arm. Go team Stilinski! He chooses to ignore the fact that he nearly fainted several times and hurl ten but the life and death situations he felt he was ever present in seemed to be testing him in ways he never imagined. 

Derek seemed to show up around Stiles more after that incident. He would never admit it but he was growing slightly fonder of the big Sourwolf and their banter. If he didn’t know any better, which he does, but if he didn’t, he would even say that Derek enjoyed it as well. He dreamt of Laura again that night. She seemed less foggy this time and he remembered her thrill of laughter, recalling some of his and ‘Der-bears’ interactions. If he didn’t think he’d get his throat ripped out he would love to use that on the Beta and see his reaction. Would be classic, but he likes his body in one piece. 

She told Stiles that he was good for Derek. A notion he chose not to think too much on. This was a figment of his imagination after all, the fact he was dreaming of Derek’s dead older sister was bad enough before adding weird things like that into the mix. She slowly became more present in Stiles dreams, jumbling in amongst his nightmares. It was strange, sometimes he swears that the dreams with Laura are the sanest thing happening in his life. She became familiar. 

He can’t recall exactly when things changed. He thinks somewhere between finding out about Peter, the horror of the school dance and all the dead bodies popping up in Beacon Hills. But one day he was walking back to his jeep after school and he swears he heard someone call his name, only to have no one around. Then if he wasn’t in his right mind he would have sworn he saw one of Peter’s victims walking the isles of the local supermarket two days later. These occurrences happened more often and at weirder times. He tried his best to ignore them and push them out of his mind.

He wasn’t really talking to his dad. He didn’t want to get him involved in the supernatural world, he’d already caused him enough trouble. He was sick of the lies but it was necessary, he would never let anything happen to him.

He knew something was wrong before he found out Derek had been taken. He was dead asleep, which was something of a miracle before Laura yelled at him to wake up. She was in tears and it seemed so wrong on her face. But got up he did, little good it was to him at the time though. He had no idea what was happening. He found himself in the woods at four in the morning soaking wet, following what, he didn’t know before bumping into Peter Hale. No one knew about this encounter but Peter was a mess, he was obviously distressed and for some reason. Stiles still has no idea why he hugged the wolf. He hugged him! Maybe this should have been when he realised his demise was to come. The murderous Hale was in shock as much as him but he felt someone take his hand and then it was like he was looking on from the outside and it wasn’t him anymore.

“It’s okay Peter, we’re okay.” The words he didn’t understand fell from his lips like it was natural. “We love you Peter, let yourself be happy. Remember what I told you the night before the fire. Remember them Peter.” He whispered. He could feel the strong emotions in his own body but didn’t understand them at all.

Stiles felt like someone looped a rope around him and suddenly he was pulled. Pulled back into his body and he found himself stepping back and just turning around and walking home. He’s still not sure if it was a dream, but it felt as real as Laura had become to him. Which was not a good measurement for anything. 

Things got darker. Peter threatened his life yet also offered the bite. Derek got set free. Kate Argent was a psychotic bitch who Laura was adamant he find and rip her guts out. Like Stiles was going to do that, he was the human which he swears she forgets. Allison found out about everything and realised her Aunty was crazy. She turned to team McCall again and then Peter Killed Kate. It was all really traumatising but it was another day in the life of Stiles.

Derek Killed Peter. That was a hard Pill to swallow but he understood. He felt a connection to Laura now that he wasn’t ready to think about, let he be reminded of his obvious un-healthy coping mechanism. With all the weird stuff happening he was bound to go a little crazy right? He was sure it wasn’t a big issue…So he chose to not think about what it all meant in the long term. Scott finally came to terms with the fact he was a wolf and nothing would change. Lydia turned out to be a banshee. Jackson was some creepy reptile. Derek started changing teenagers in what Laura called his cry for a Pack. Peter came back, still creepy but somehow sane. He saved Derek and Scott’s life a few more times and they his. But through it all Stiles started to crack.

He had the nightmares more often and more relentless. They were of him, he was dying. But it wasn’t just once it was over and over in all different ways. He looked different though, he was all different ages but he knew it was him. The heaviness of everything was wearing on him. His string was frayed and he was waiting for it to snap. Scott practically ignored him these days. His dad was always busy with work, there are no quiet days in Beacon Hill. His dreams and reality started to blur and he wasn’t sure what was real anymore. Sometimes he thought he was okay, only to have it thrown in his face when the voices started whispering to him again. They spoke to him all at once but he could never understand them or what they wanted. One day it was so bad he had to rush out of the classroom, ignoring the stares of the pack and lock himself in a toilet cubical for two hours. He was crying and exhausted but finally after relentless begging they stopped. He stopped eating properly and was jumping at every movement in his peripheral vision. the Sourwolf came to visit more often with what seemed to be pitiful excuses, but for some reason it seemed to quiet things down. Just for a little while though.

He became depressed and his anxiety was through the roof, it wasn’t long before the suicidal thoughts came into play. The voices slowly came to him sometimes. Somewhere just saying hello, others wanted to talk about their deaths but Stiles really didn’t want to hear it. Then usually when he was at his lowest he would get invaded by this dank, dark feeling. He would feel like he was suffocating and that’s when the evil voices came. They told him to kill himself. It would end all his pain and struggles.

He should join them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the next chapter will bring it up to present. I just wanted to kind get through the earlier years because I want Stiles to be older before anything happens with him and Derek and just felt like it was more appropriate. I don't think i'll keep it canon from this point but it may have some similar things. Let me know what you think. :)


	3. Days Go By

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles and Papa Stilinski talk about the latest case.

Stiles was a mess. He woke up from another nightmare, his heart pounding and his hands clammy with the weight of the world on his shoulders. He pushed back the blankets, sat up and planted his feet on the wooden floor hoping to feel grounded. Taking a deep breath he rested his arms on his legs and bent forward hanging his head. The cool air circulated the room, chilling the sweat on his naked torso. He kept his breathing calm and tried his best to push away the darkness in his own mind. He felt the push of a soft fury head against his side and glanced over to his new bed fellow. The grey cat meowed at him before pushing her way onto his lap and began purring. Meatball or Noodle Jnr – he was sure- was becoming a regular visitor to the Stilinski house. He remembered the cat his mum called Noodle from when he was a kid and he swore this one was identical. Apparently Noodle was a hussy because this had to be her kitten. Either way though, it enjoyed cuddling up with Stiles at night as much as it’s mother. He wasn’t opposed to it, in fact the cat seemed to show up at the right times and keep him company when he needed it. 

“How do you still manage to have a great sleep, huh?” Stiles questioned the feline as he placed her back onto his bed and stood up.

He surveyed his room, it was its usual mess. The laptop on his desk was still open and on from the late night research he was up doing the previous night. He was looking up witches rituals for the pack and when he got too frustrated with his findings, or lack there was, he’d read up on sleep patterns and different reasons for insomnia, just cause. His floor was scattered in clothes and random books open on various pages, in various positions. He sighed before stretching, feeling the bones in his back crack a little before tiredly making his way to the bathroom for a shower.

He stripped off his clothes before stepping into the warm stream of the shower. The water felt great against his tight muscles. He always felt worn yet tense after waking from a nightmare and after a while discovered how a lovely hot shower could help relax his body and mind, even if it was only a fraction.

As sad as it was this was his reality at this point. 

He couldn’t understand why his nightmares were so vivid and came so often. Stiles knew he’d seen a lot of messed up stuff so far in his life but everyone else seemed to be taking it a whole lot better. He never accounted himself as weak, even amongst werewolves. He went out of his way to prove himself to his pack that he was a worthy member and could contribute in his own way. He may not be strong like them and he was definitely more likely to be injured but he wasn’t just a soft meat bag. He stayed up late researching all sorts of things to help them out. Heck, Stiles knows he’s helped save them all multiple times when they’ve been stuck in a pinch and the pack knows that too. So he struggles with the knowledge that something is wrong with him.

When he first started to see Laura in his dreams he figured he was just dealing with everything in a different way. But when he started to see other people he was sure where dead during the day…well, let’s just say he strongly believes in denial as a solid coping mechanism. He didn’t want to worry his dad or the pack and he had tried so dam hard to prove himself the last thing he wanted was them to start seeing him as a liability again. It was hard enough to get passed that in the first place. He wasn’t stupid, he knew in a pinch when a situation needed strength and general growly-ness he wasn’t going to be able to do much. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t help in other ways. His bat was usually just a safety precaution…Besides he’d rather die than let someone he cared for die without him standing in to help. He would try anything humanely possible before he let anything bad happen to them, even holding afloat a very heavy grumpy wolf for multiple hours whilst Jackson was being psychotic and becoming one with what Stiles was sure was Jacksons spirit animal.

He knew his dad suspected something was up. He’d confronted Stiles multiple times now and he had somehow managed to get himself out of it. Although the look his dad always gave him afterword led him to believe he wasn’t really having a bar of it. There had been a few choice words and stern looks directed at him quite a few times. More so when he gets himself caught in the middle of yet another Beacon Hills tragedy. He said a few things he regretted when his dad had accused him of getting involved with drugs and the kind. He really shouldn’t have been surprised his father came to that conclusion given all the signs.

Things had calmed down a little in that department after Jackson shed his reptile skin and took on fur instead. He was on better terms now with his father but Stiles knew his Dad wouldn’t be sated so easily. Something was going to have to give at some point and he just hoped he could keep him out of it all as long as possible. He was already worried about his dad’s health, he didn’t need the things that go bump in the night to kick start a heart attack. 

Stiles sighed again as he turned off the shower and dried himself. He walked back to his room and prepared for another school day. After throwing on some clothes and opening the window for Meatball to leave he dragged himself downstairs. He could smell the coffee brewing and hear his father moving around the kitchen which was strange, he should have left for work already. He pulled out his phone to double check the time before walking into the kitchen and spotting his dad at the table with the local paper in his hand. The headline on the front reading ‘ANOTHER CHILD TAKEN’ with a picture of a crying mother underneath. It must have been a couple days old now.

“Running late?” He asked his dad as he helped himself to a cup of coffee and put some bread in the toaster.

John glanced over at his son as he leaned against the kitchen counter sipping his hot cup of coffee. He noted the bags under his boy’s eyes that seemed to have taken up permanent residency as of late.

“No, we managed to find one of the missing kids late last night,” John spoke tiredly. This peeked Stiles interest and he stood up straighter. “We called her parents and left her at the hospital overnight. The doctor said she was in shock and that we’d have to wait to question her. She’s the only lead we have at the moment as to who the perpetrator is.” John sighed obviously frustrated by it all.

“Parrish said he’d call me after talking to the doctors today and keep me updated. Figured after all the long hours I could give myself a late start.” John replied and gave his son a small smile.

John knew he hadn’t been around much lately and it was something he always felt bad about but Stiles always tried to convince him he was okay and that John had people to save. He suspected his acceptance also had something to do with hiding whatever it was Stiles had gotten himself into that he didn’t want John to know about.

Stiles nodded slowly in understanding before turning around and finished preparing his breakfast. He knew his dad was working hard on the latest case. With three kids missing, well now two, the town was on high alert. Some parents had even stopped sending their kids to school, preferring to keep them at home just in case. The pack had found signs of supernatural activity out in the preserve not long before children were getting snatched. It looked ritualistic, Derek suspected Witches but Peter wasn’t so sure.

Stiles thinks Derek may have let their trespassing slide with a warning but as soon as kids were involved they had crossed too many lines. Either way, they were causing a stir in Derek’s territory and now it was a pack problem.

He wondered what else his father had found out. So far the pack had yet to identify any sort of real reason someone would be doing this, so they’d put two and two together with the recent find in the preserve and the missing kids and assumed it was possibly sacrificed based. But no one had turned up dead yet and the news of a kid being found just makes things more confusing. The pack wasn’t the only ones who found weird things in the preserve. One of the sniffer dogs had also found something similar to their find earlier on in the month and now he knew his dad was suspecting something much more cult like to be at the core of the whole situation. They hadn’t released that information to the press at this point and Stiles could understand why.

The last thing they needed was a town full of paranoid civilians, especially with a large proportion being religious. Imagine what conclusions they would pull. Someone might string up a gothic teenager to a tree in the name of Jesus and call it cleansing. Stiles scrunched his nose at the thought before sitting himself down opposite his dad at the table and taking a bite out of his toast.

He was curious as to the condition of the young girl besides his dad’s broad statement that she was in shock. They needed more clues to help put the puzzle together. Derek was off gallivanting the town with at least one other pack member in hopes of sniffing something out. They didn’t have a lot to go off at this point.

“So--” Stiles started.

“No, Stiles.” His dad cut him off.

“I didn’t even say anything!” Stiles shot quickly, offended his father didn’t even give him a chance.

“I’m not telling you anything about the case.” John spoke firmly raising an eyebrow at his son over his newspaper. He tried not to smile at his sons gobsmacked face as he open and closed his mouth a few times before retorting.

“I just” Stiles fumbled quickly trying to make up some excuse. “I just wanted to know about the little girl!” He responded in what he hoped was believable. He did want to know so he wasn’t lying but he had been hoping to get something else out from his father that he could work with.

John held in a snort at his sons antics. He thinks sometimes Stiles forgets how well John knows him. He may ask about the girl and his son did have a big heart that’s for sure but he was also innately curious and getting himself into way to much trouble with such things. 

“What about her?” John replied neutrally, looking back at his paper and turning to the next page.  
Stiles stared at his father as he was obviously brushing him off. Dam the stubborn Stilinski genes!

“Is she going to be okay?” Stiles asked.

His father said she was in shock but didn’t mention anything else about her state that would indicate foul play. But if there was one thing Stiles new about his dad, was that he knew how to be discreet when it came to such things. 

John sighed and put down his paper and looked at his son, staring at him in earnest.

“From what I’ve seen, she will be fine…but it may take some time.” John relented solemnly.

John didn’t have much to go off at this point but the young girl was a bit roughed up. He might not know all the specifics yet but after all the years of being in the field he knows something like this won’t just go away for the poor kid.

Stiles nodded in understanding looking down at his empty plate.

“How’d you find her? Where was she?” Stiles asked glancing up.

His dad never replied but the look he gave Stiles told him that was all he was going to get. Knowing when he was beat Stiles grumbled to himself and got up to wash his dishes. John chuckled to himself quietly at his son’s antics before picking up his paper and continuing his reading. 

“Want a refill?” Stiles asked his father holding the coffee urn and indicating towards his dad’s empty cup.

“Sure, thanks Son.” John replied with a smile.

Stiles quickly filled up his dad’s cup before running upstairs to grab his things. John knew things might not be perfect between them but some things never changed and he knew they were okay. John heard his son come tumbling down the stairs in a hurry grabbing his keys of the table and scurrying to the door.

“Do you want me to get anything from the shops today? I’m hoping to go to the store before work.” John called out to his son’s retreating form.

Stiles paused thoughtfully at the front, the door open and his body half way out. The cool morning air working its magic on his tired mind.

“Maybe some cat food!” Stiles called back.

Before John could question Stiles on his weird request Stiles responded in haste. “Noodles is a hussy and has a clone baby who keeps sneaking in! So don’t freak out if you hear her running around.” 

And with that being said Stiles slammed the door behind him leaving John to spit coffee all over himself in private. John sat in shock for a moment before breaking out of his trance and moving to clean himself up. He paused to look towards the ceiling where he knew Claudia’s chest was.

Maybe it was time.

He jumped suddenly raising a hand to his heart when he felt something rub up against his leg, only to look around and see nothing. 

"Christ..." He emptied his lungs before relaxing.

John shook his head. It was time to get changed and go to shops.

He's told old for this crap.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait!  
> I enjoyed writing this chapter I know it's not big but I'm hoping once the story picks up I can make each one a bit bigger. I just liked where this one finished off. Rest assured I already have the start of the next chapter done and things finally start to get interesting. You'll see more of the pack in the next chapter and hopefully some Derek as well.  
> Let me know what you think! Your comments are much appreciated.  
> Thanks guys!!!


	4. Ghost Of You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things continue to get confusing for poor Stiles.

Stiles sat quietly at the lunch table with the pack. They were listening to Isaac retell his findings with Derek from their search around the schools the night before. 

“You’re lucky no one caught you. Lurking arounds schools whilst kids are going missing. Smart.” Erica cut in sarcastically. 

“We wouldn’t have got caught.” Isaac defended, looking slightly offended.

“Yeah alright, this time. When you get caught on creeper charges it’s not my problem.” She snarked back.

“Just tell us what you found.” Jackson cut in annoyed at their bickering.

“I was getting to that before I was rudely interrupted.”Isaac replied firmly looking towards Erica.

The blond scoffed rolling her eyes, before leaning back feigning interest in checking her nails.

“We found small bags filled with weird smelling stuff and what looked like animal bones. They were scattered and stashed around the outside of the two schools with the youngest kids. The same scent we found around the ritual sights in the woods was around them as well. It smells like at least two different people are involved.” Isaac spoke quietly trying not to alert any other student.

“What about the high schools?” Scott asked earnestly.

“Nope, nothing.” Issac replied. “I’d say we were right with the age being a factor. I don’t think we have anything to worry about here.”

Everyone visibly relaxed around the table. The pack had been on high alert with the rest of the town since it all started. Stiles glanced around the table at his friends. It seems he wasn’t the only one not getting a lot of sleep. Erica, Boyd, Scott, jackson and Isaac may not look visibly tired but their demeanour said it all. They were the ones running around with Derek late at night going on ‘Witch hunts’ as he liked to joke. His sense of humor wasn’t always appreciated but someone needed to lighten the mood on occasion. Lydia tried to hide it with makeup and her normal attitude but it seemed forced and the take away coffee cup that was becoming one with her left hand was a big tell. Allison did look tired which he couldn’t fault her on, she was up all night researching with Lydia for anything that could help them in her dad’s secret library. He probably looked just as bad if not worse. At least they wouldn’t question it.

“Stiles.”

“What?” Stiles said looking at Scott next to him pulling him out of his daze.

“Nothing dude, I didn’t say anything?” Scott questioned, concern on his face.

Stiles froze a moment.

“Sorry man, tired. Must be imagining things.” He smiled weakly at his friend.

Scott nodded in understanding before turning back to the group.

“Talk to me Stiles.” The voice spoke again.

Stiles sighed rubbing his eyes with the palms of his hands before pushing himself to ignore it and pay attention to his friends.

“I know you can hear me you know, you’re only a little crazy trust me.” The voice cackled muffling everyone around him.

“Stiles!” Lydia’s voice cut in bringing his senses back on track.

Stiles shook his head quickly.

“Sorry, what?” He asked her.

“I said did you find anything?” She repeated annoyed.

Stiles frowned.

“Not a thing, I was up all night trying to search for rituals that involved kids- Which by the way there is way too many to feel comfortable about. But nothing that resembled what we found at the sight in the preserve and nothing that involved the bags Isaac mentioned.” He replied. “There was a lot to go through though so I’ll keep looking tonight. Hopefully something comes up.”

The group grumbled in acknowledgement.

“Derek said he’d take one of the bags to Deaton to look at. He didn’t want to touch too many when he wasn’t sure what it was for.” Isaac yawned.

The group nodded tiredly again. Stiles figured now was the time to bring up the recovered girl.

“Dad said one of the kids was found last night,” The whole group shot their heads up in interest, disregarding their lunch for the moment.

“Is she okay?” Scott jumped in quickly.

“She’s alive.” Stiles stated. “Dad said she was in shock. She was brought to the hospital and they can’t talk to her until the doctor gives the okay.”

“How bad was it?” Allison asked quietly.

Stiles shrugged. “Dad didn’t give too much away, as much as I tried. From the sounds of it she’s going to need some time to get passed it. Whether that means mentally, physically or both I don’t know.” He stated solemnly.

The bell cut the conversation as they all slowly stood up and gathered their things. 

“I think we need to have another pack meeting tonight.” Boyd declared. “Pool all our resources together and see if we’ve missed anything.”

Everyone Nodded.

“I’ll message Derek and let you guys know.” Isaac responded as they started to go their separate ways.

 

Stiles spent the rest of the school day trying to ignore the background music of whispers. Covering his ears did absolutely nothing so he was resigned to dealing with it in hopes it would just go. By the end of the day his head was throbbing and all he wanted to do was nap. He received a message from Isaac not long after the last bell, indicating the school day was finally over. Everyone was to meet at Derek's loft at 6 and to bring any findings that they might think will help.

Stiles left his chemistry classroom and hurried out to his jeep. He didn’t bother hanging around to say goodbye to anyone since he’d be seeing them all soon, so he jumped in his car and drove home. By the time he got home the voices seemed to subside a little and he was thankful for whatever leeway he was going to get. He parked his car in the empty drive way and let himself into the quiet house. He by passed the kitchen and went straight upstairs to his room. He quickly turned the radio on low in hope it would drown out the voices and he’d get some sleep. He set an alarm on his phone for 5:30 and collapsed face first onto his mattress. He somehow found the energy to kick his shoes off before he fell into slumber.

Stiles felt warm, it was a nice change to the chill that seemed to cling to his body these days. He opened his eyes and looked out onto the beautiful lake in front of him. He was sat on some grass under a beautiful oak tree, perched just on a small hill. He was wearing shorts for a change and a light cotton shirt. The sun was out and shone on his bare legs that were poking out from the tree’s shade. The air was crisp, clean and fresh with a slight fragrance from the colourful flowers growing nearby. The sounds of birds and bugs going about their day buzzed around him. He sat for a while admiring the view, feeling almost at peace. He’d forgotten what that was like.

“I thought you needed this.” Came a familiar voice to his left.

He turned his gaze from the water and onto the beautiful young woman standing next to him. Laura stood there with her long silky hair blowing lightly in the wind, she wore a pretty yellow sundress that fell nicely over her body. She walked over to him and sat down brushing her arm against his.

“It’s been getting worse.” Laura stated more then asked.

Stiles hummed in agreement not needing to ask what she was talking about, before turning his attention back to the view in front of him. They both sat together in silence for a while and just appreciated the moment. Laura being Laura got slightly bored after too long and ended up knocking her barefoot into Stiles leg every few seconds to gain his attention. He gave in and turned to her, use to being the one doing the aggravating not the other way round.

“What’s wrong?” He asked her slightly amused.

“Why would you think somethings wrong?” She questioned back innocently.

Stiles scoffed. “Because Laura Hale doesn’t hold back when she wants to say something. So if you’re stopping to think about it, I don’t know if I want to know.”

Laura laughed and smiled brightly at him.

“You think you got me all figured don’t you Stilinski!” She mock growled bashing her shoulder into his making him fall a bit.

Stiles caught himself and chuckled at her. “I think I’ve got a pretty good idea.” He said smugly before using all his weight to knock her side ways. Laura fell the rest of the way to the ground with a light grunt, it wasn’t far considering they were already sitting but Stiles quickly got up and started running across the grass towards the lake. His laughter followed him across the clearing making Laura smile. She quickly jumped up and gave a childish howl.

“You wait Stilinski!!!!!I’ma kick your ass!!!”She yelled at him with laughter in her own voice.

She chased Stiles down and tackled him into the sand just before the water. They both hit the ground hard but neither seemed to care. They wrestled for a while until Stiles tapped out exhausted. There was no way she would have let him won that’s for sure. They both laid on their backs in the sand letting the sun soak into their skin and the breeze keep them cool.

“What’s black, white and red all over?” Laura asked casually.

Stiles grunted and shrugged. “What?” He asked trying to remember if he’d heard this one before.

“A penguin with a sunburn.” Laura snorted before letting out a laugh.

“That was terrible!” Stiles teased but couldn’t help but chuckle. “Why did the cowboy never take of his boots?”

Laura turned her head to him a smile on her face. “I don’t know, why?” She asked with excitement.

Stiles rolled onto his stomach and looked at her with joy in his eyes and a smirk on his face. “Because he didn’t want to stub his toe when he kicked the bucket!” 

Laura let out a bark of laughter and lent up to shove him. “Dead jokes, really!” She bantered. She bit her lip and thought for a moment her eyes of in the distance. “Okay, I got one for you.” She smiled.

Stiles looked over at her and grinned.

“What’s brown and sticky?” She asked with a thoughtful look in her eye.

“I don’t like where this is going.” Said Stiles with a disgusted face.

Laura just laughed again. “Come on! What’s brown and sticky?”

Stiles gave up. “I don’t know, what?” he asked.

She smirked, looked him dead in the eye. “A stick.” She straight faced, like that wasn’t the worst joke of the century. 

Stiles stared at her for several moments and her expression stayed neutral the whole time before he lost it laughing and she finally cracked a smile again. The mirth in her eyes shining through.

“You’re the worst!” He said through chuckles.

“It’s a great one. A classic really, you should remember it and tell it to your kids.” She said in high spirits. “The ones that are so terrible they are funny are the best.” 

Stiles smiled at her again before moving back onto his back. He felt a change in the wind as it picked up and the sun started to move behind clouds. Laura sat up quickly a look of concern on her face as she glanced over at Stiles.

“You need to wake up now Stiles.” 

Stiles sat up as well studying her features and growing worried. “What’s wrong?” He asked. The wind picked up again and suddenly he was really cold. The sand blew up and whipped at his skin harshly. Laura quickly pulled him up and dragged him back towards the tree they were at earlier. The tree stood strong as the wind rustled its leaves in a dance of give and take. He looked back over his shoulder at the lake, the water now choppy and rough looked angry. Laura kept tugging him until they were both under the tree again. She let him go and spun him to look at her. She grabbed his face with one hand and made him look into her eyes.

“You’re not crazy, you got that Stilinski.” She said firmly with watery eyes.

Stiles didn’t know what to say or what to think. He was scared. Laura looked scared and for all the time he has known her now she laughed in the face of everything. He couldn’t picture it. 

“You’re dreaming right now and I need you to wake up okay?” She said letting his face go and giving him a hug. “I can’t explain much I know. I’m sorry Stiles.” She spoke softly to him.

“I don’t understand.” Stiles whispered giving her a hug in return.

“You need to wake up!” She yelled shaking him as the sky turned darker and he could barely see her. The sky finally turned black and he couldn’t see anything. He could feel Laura holding onto his wrist tightly. The oak tree above them thundered loudly as it was at war with the elements. Natures battle cries grew louder and louder until his ears started to hurt. Rain started to poor and his body started to shiver. He was terrified. He yelled Laura’s name as he grabbed at her hand on his wrist and held on tighter. He felt her reach for him with her other arm but before she could get a grip he was being pulled back. It felt like someone doused him in ice cold water as a hand circled his neck. He could feel Laura’s grip slipping as the hand pulled him back more firmly causing him to stumble back and splutter. His heart felt like it was going to burst out of his chest as it beat at his rib cage like a mad man. He struggled to get away but his limbs stopped working. In his panic he knocked Laura’s hand free and it wasn’t long before he heard her roar. It was loud and fierce. Exactly how he would have imagine her roar as an Alpha but all off a sudden it cut short and bled into a scream. There was a low chuckle behind his ear as the full presence of the being holding him pressed up behind him. His skin felt like a thousand spiders were crawling along him.

“Thought you could hide from me did you Stiles?” The voice spoke eerily.

Stiles screamed.

Stiles woke up in a panic. He continued to scream and throw his limbs around trying to fight of the creature who took hold of him. It wasn’t until he fell off his bed in a tumble and hit the floor hard that he realised it was gone. His heart continued to race as he let out a low wine taking in the surroundings from his room. He quickly scrambled onto his feet and smashed his back onto the wall cramming himself between his bed and dresser. His breathing was coming out in quick harsh breaths as his eyes darted all around his room. He quickly scurried across the floor to grab a pillow that had tumbled down with him before retreating back into his spot. He held the pillow tight to his chest, his knees bent as he curled in on himself. He slowly rocked himself trying to calm down but the adrenaline was still pumping through his veins. After some time passed his thoughts slowed down marginally and he took in a deep steady breath before exhaling it slowly. He refused to close his eyes but he continued the breathing exercise. Deep breath in, exhale slowly. Deep breath in, exhale slowly. His body began to come down but his limbs started to shake.

He felt tears slowly run down his cheeks and looked down only to realise he must have been crying for a while as the pillow was wet. He used his arm to quickly wipe at his face and sniffed his runny nose. He was a mess. A straight up mess. He felt tears begin to swell in his eyes again and he closed them in frustration, wishing them away. They slowly ran down the side of his face as he leant his head against the wall and stared up at the ceiling. 

What was wrong with him? When did he get so fucked up?

Stiles wiped his eyes again and started to let his muscles relax. He tried to think of something to distract his thoughts but all he could think about was Laura’s scream and the cold hand around his neck. The hairs on his neck shot up at just the thought and he quickly moved his hand to his throat. It felt sore but he wasn’t sure if that was just because he wasn’t quite back to reality yet.

A quiet meow pulled him out of his turmoil as he looked up and sore Meatball waltzing into his room from the window he must have left open this morning. She jumped down and ran over to him. Her little red bell rang away loudly on her purple collar in her haste to get to him. She slowed herself down and somehow squished herself into the gap beside him. He smiled down at her, which came out more like a grimace and loosened his stance so she could get onto his lap. She didn’t hesitate a moment and climbed into his lap purring and rubbing her head into his chest. Stiles lifted his shaky hand and patted her head. 

They sat cuddling for what felt like eternity. Stiles finally calmed down and relaxed himself out some more. He took a final deep breath and let out a big sigh before squeezing himself and Meatball out of his makeshift fortress. His limbs were stiff as he stood but it was nice to move them. He moved around his room cleaning up the mess he had made in his panic. He didn’t put Meatball down though, not quite ready to let her go just yet and she didn’t seem to mind. He turned his light on before anything and tried his best to make his bed one handed. He decided it was good enough and sat down on his mattress thoroughly exhausted. He sat there staring blankly at the wall for a moment with Meatball content in his lap. His alarm made him jump and his heart picked up again. Meatball quickly jumped off him in fright onto his bed.

“Fuck!” He muttered, grabbing his phone from his night stand and turning it off. 

He collapsed back on the mattress and groaned at the ceiling. If he wasn’t so scared of being alone right now he would be tempted to skip the pack meeting. As it were, even if he was crazy he’d be safest with them. Especially with god knows what out there gallivanting around at the moment. He sat and turned towards Meatball who sat their watching him curiously.

“Thanks.” Stiles said to her thoughtfully and gave her a stroke. She always showed up when he needed her. “Sorry for giving you a fright.” He mumbled. 

She looked at him with her big eyes and purred into his hand. He took it as all was forgiven. Stiles stood up and walked to his closet. He supposed he should probably wear something slightly different then what he wore to school. Feeling lazy he just changed his shirt and put on a new flannel on top. He felt a bit cold but Derek’s was usually pretty cosy inside, more so now with the human additions. He glanced in the mirror attached to the closet door quickly, not wanting to linger on his dishevelled state. He didn’t see a mark on his neck but he touched it again and felt the tender skin. He was losing it. He grabbed an empty bag and chucked in his laptop and the paperwork he had printed out and scattered across his desk. He cocked his head to the side as he heard whispers faintly in the background. It was the quietest they had been in a long time and he was thankful for it. His sanity could be left to question later.

He grabbed his bag, patted Meatball goodbye and headed downstairs. He scribbled a note to his dad about being at Issac’s in case he came home early. He suspected his father will be having a late night though, given all the happenings at the moment. His dad knew Isaac lived with Derek and that Derek took him in and became his guardian after Isaac’s father died. There were less questions asked though when he said he was hanging out with his school mate and not the 20 something year old looking after him. His dad was a bit dubious of it all at first but Scott and Stiles managed to talk him around with the help of Melissa, who is a new addition to the team of “knowing”. She worries still but she’d rather know and help.

He jumped in the car and headed towards the Hales loft. It didn’t take long to get there and he parked up beside the rest of the gang. He swung himself clumsily out of the jeep and nearly face planted before catching himself on the door. He really was out of it. He could feel the fatigue wearing on his body, his limbs heavy and lifeless. 

Stiles made his way up to the loft and didn’t bother knocking knowing a third of the room knew he was their already. He took in a deep breath and tried to slap on his façade before opening the door.

“King Stilinksi has arrived!” He called as he walked into the apartment, a smirk on his face.

His joyous demeanour was received with groans and eye roles alike.

“You wish Peasant Stilinski!” Jackson barked at him.

“Did you forget to take your happy pills today Jackson?” Stiles snarked, making his way into the lounge room, just right of the door.

It was a beautiful place really. The open floor plan and high ceiling downstairs made it so much roomier. The floor dipped down with a step into the lounge where Derek had set up some black couches and beanbags around a small coffee table. There was a fake fireplace on the wall in front of the couches and a TV above that. Scott, Erica and Isaac had made a home down there with their laptops and books. To the left of the door was the dining space, big enough to fit the pack and a few more but not too big it was beyond being homey. If you walked straight, next to the lounge on the right was the big kitchen with the stairs leading upstairs on its left next to the dining area. Stiles hadn’t really been up there seeing as it was the rooms and what not but he imagined it was nice as well. The whole place had huge windows that you could sit underneath and Derek had got electric blinds installed. The floors were all wooden with a few rugs here and there. The walls were all exposed bricks with lights and a few random paintings a long them. All in all it was simple but nice. It took a while to get to this point. He remembers when Derek use to have just the essentials and the place was just gloomy and depressing. He suspects having Isaac and Peter move in hurried it all along.

“Fuck you Stilinski! It’s a bit hard to be cheery when I have to look at your ugly mug!” Jackson bit back, sitting at the dining table with the rest of the squad excluding Peter and Derek.

Stiles rolled his eyes and began to retort before Derek cut him off.

“-Stop!” Derek called from the kitchen in an authoritative tone.

Stiles didn’t have any natural instincts pushing him to obey such an order but he did anyway and plonked himself down next to Scott. With everyone tired and frustrated he didn’t see this meeting going as planned.

Let the night begin Stiles joked to himself. Besides, it couldn’t get worse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey Guys!  
> I hoped you liked this chapter, it's a bit longer then the last few. I'll try and work on that still.  
> So we got to see a bit of Laura interaction. Keep in mind he has been dreaming of Laura for a long time now, so they've had plenty of time to interact. I know i've left a lot untold still but that was the point, all in due time. ;P
> 
> Let me know what you think! Things are going to start to get interesting. :D
> 
> Omg and if someone could tell me how to get Italics to work that'd be great. I write the spirits talk in Italics but it's not coming up on here. Seriously frustrating.  
> Oh and also, I know I haven't really thrown ages in or there school year yet but I'm Aussie and have shocking knowledge of the American school system so I'll have to research that and put that in for you guys. (If anyone wants to be my guide on that feel free to message me. Cheers!)


	5. The Lonely

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pack meeting and awkward situations.

Much to Stiles amazement the meeting went by without too much argument. Derek spoke to Deaton and apparently the bag he’d brought in was a poor attempt at either a protection spell or an aid to a locater spell. Deaton thought the latter. Which means, they’ve got either someone trying to help but not well or an enemy who really isn’t very skilled. Considering how hard they were finding it to track down the assailants – or assailant, Stiles doesn’t even know anymore-they were sceptical about them having shonky spell work. 

“Do you think then the reason we keep finding the same two scents around each site is because the person trying to help is looking for the witch as well?” Scott asked the table from beside Stiles.

“They could have just been in a hurry and screwed it up.” Erica spoke with a shrug.

“With the intrinsic designs carved in the trees, they seem well practised and quite knowledgeable with spell work. Some of them were quite old. I could only find mention of them dating back into the late 1700’s.” Lydia spoke. “I’m still not sure how each symbol correlates together.”

“We don’t know if they’re trying to help Scott. It’s un-likely.” Derek replied, standing at the head of the table.

“But they could be.” Scott pointed out, always the optimist. 

“Possibly.” Peter called sarcastically from the other end of the room laying on the couch, showing disinterest in the whole ordeal. Peter had grumbled about being at a school camp before distancing himself and moving to the lounge.

The pack turned to look at him as his head poked up above the back of the chair as he sat up slightly. “Either way they’re getting in the way. If it’s as Deaton said and the spell work is too weak to read they’re not worth the time.” He grouched. He quickly pulled himself up and jumped over the back of the couch smoothly and leaned himself against it whilst raising his hand. “If they get in the way and I have to kill them too,” he shrugged extending his claws. “It’s not my problem.”

Peter smirked sadistically and the pack let out a few groans at his dark nature. They were all used to Peter’s antics by now. Trust wasn’t a word thrown around strongly in regards to him but they all had a form of understanding that did not come easy. Like Stiles, Peter managed to earn his place. Somewhere in between the Omega debacle, Gerard-hunter problem and goblin infestation of last year. He’d come in handy. Not that anyone in the pack would admit that easily. It took Stiles a long time to warm up to Peter but for some reason he ended up being the one left with him when something went amiss or research was to be done. If he ignored the snarls and snide remarks Peter never actually hurt Stiles or let him get hurt if he was around. It was something he kept to himself but they had their own understanding. Peter was the one who found him after Gerard had beaten him. Peter was mainly in hiding at the time, not wanting the older man to know he was back. It gave them an advantage and he never mentioned anything to the Pack or belittled Stiles for it. He thinks sometimes the man just wants company, so Stiles indulges him from time to time. His family was murdered as well as Derek’s but the Pack had helped fill some of the void for Derek. Peter wasn’t as lucky as no one really wanted to get close to him.

He thinks it’s another Hale trait to annoy Stiles. Derek did much the same before the Pack was as stable. He’d jump through his window more often than either would admit just to brood and raze his eyebrows a few times whilst Stiles talked about whatever was on his hyperactive mind-which ranged a lot-and the research he was doing for the pack. Sometimes he even just dropped in for no reason and they would both do their own thing but in each other’s company. That meant Derek mainly read and Stiles tried to avoid homework, throwing in random conversation now and again. One time he managed to get Derek to play Xbox with him. Stiles won but Derek refused to acknowledge it. Laura liked to make sly comments and jokes about his and Derek’s interactions and he did well in ignoring them for his own sake. There were somethings he wasn’t ready to think about, he had enough problems. 

The time they shared wasn’t something he really brought up with the Pack and they never mentioned it. Derek didn’t really come bother him too much anymore. He had warmed towards the Alpha, but he refused to admit he missed their old hang outs in his room. The company was especially appreciated when Scott was going through another Allison phase and ignoring him. The Pack had regular meetings now so there wasn’t as much reason, but he still liked to growl threats and hold him against walls. Stiles thinks Derek might just have a weird kink for it, but last time he brought it up he nearly lost an arm. Thankfully Peter stood in. Apparently the human was ‘fragile’ and Derek needed to keep his fetishes to himself. Stiles got a kick out of that once the attention wasn’t on him and Peter did too from the smile on his face as Derek stormed off. Banter wasn’t unusual in their group. Most the time it wasn’t taken to heart but it could get out of hand with the competitive nature and stubbornness they all held.

“For now that’s not important.” Lydia spoke up from his left, ignoring Scott’s puppy dog eyes and Peter’s frown at his dismissal. “We need to figure out what their aim is so we can stop it before it gets even further out of hand.” She stated.

“I don’t know about all of you but I’m so over this already. It’s been a couple weeks now and our leads keep getting us nowhere.” Isaac sighed resigned before slumping his upper body across the table in front of him. He knocked some of Lydia’s paperwork which earned him a slap on the wrist before he resituated his arms.

“Allison and I have been looking through all of Chris’s books but a lot of its in Latin and other various languages. I’ve been translating as much as I can and haven’t found anything too helpful. As Stiles said earlier today there is a lot of rituals that involve children and none of it is nice. ” Lydia stated, frustration clear in her voice.

“What about you Stiles? Anything useful?” Derek asked looking at Stiles with slight optimism.

“Well, most the stuff isn’t specific.” He denounced. “It’s quite broad but they all either indicate the want for power or resurrection. Which is really cliché if you ask me. Why can’t anyone just wish to win the lottery like the rest of us?” Stiles replied sceptically, shuffling through his highlighted notes.

Neither of those things could mean anything good and the frowns across the room indicated everyone else thought the same.

“Did anything resemble the ritual sites we saw?” Asked Boyd who sat across from him, with Erica to his right. Her chair was on an angle and she was using him as a foot stool. Boyd didn’t seem to mind.

Stiles scratched as his head tiredly. He noted Peter’s approach and watched the man lean against the wall next to Derek, curiosity in his eyes. He’d let Stiles rifle through his personal collection of books. He’d have felt privileged if he didn’t think the only reason was so Peter didn’t have to do it himself.

“Well one of them from Peter’s selection had a few similarities. It was from the diary of an ex-hunter dating back to the 1800’s based in Europe. That by the way Peter I have no idea how you got your hands on.” He shot to the older man who looked impassive at the statement before continuing. “There wasn’t a picture but it mentioned the owl, raven and wolf skulls we came across. As well as odd trinkets hanging from trees. The only problem is he never mentioned finding out what caused it. He was just passing through the town at the time on his way to hunt a wendigo which he thought was more important. Which, I mean- flesh eating monster! Can’t fault the guy.” Stiles retorted with a raise of his eyebrows and a one shoulder shrug.

He pulled out the piece of paper he’d scanned from the page of the book and handed it to Lydia who was waiting expectantly. 

“A lot of the ones we read involving kids seemed to lead more towards power and resurrection as well.” Allison piped in from the other end of the table. “We just couldn’t find anyone specific to what we have seen so far.”

“In saying that, they may not have reached that point yet.” Lydia voiced still scanning through the page Stiles gave her.

“It could be their end game though.” Jackson joined from the other side of Lydia, glancing away from his phone momentarily.

“We need to know more about what happened to the girl your father brought in.” Lydia stated matter of factly turning her head towards Stiles.

“Like why and or how she got away?” Isaac said.

“And what happened to her.” Scott added

“When Isaac text me about it earlier I went to the hospital. There were two deputies posted outside of her room and the nurses didn’t seem to know much from what I could hear.” Derek mentioned. “It’s being kept pretty quiet.”

“That sounds like Dad.” Stiles said biting his bottom lip in thought. 

The whole Pack turned to look at him. He internally rolled his eyes, he could take a hint. He was slightly over the pack being okay with him putting more strain on the relationship he had with his father. He wasn’t looking forward to more lies and deception between him and his dad but they needed to sort this out before the Sheriff got too involved as well.

Stiles looked towards the Alpha and sighed. “I’ll look into it and let you know how it goes.” 

“I’d like to take a look at the book you got this from Stiles. I assume you haven’t finished it yet.” Lydia spoke to him, raising the piece of paper he handed her earlier.

He slyly look toward Peter and got a slight nose twitch in return. He could suck it up, figuring this out was more important. “I only read a chapter passed that point, most of it was on the Wendigo he was hunting down. I’ll bring the book to school tomorrow.”

Lydia nodded pleased with the response. “I also think we should be wary that the full moon is coming up. A lot of spell work is made stronger with the connection to the moon and I wouldn’t be surprised if that’s what their waiting on.”

“That’s only three days away!” Scott shot in dismay. 

A look of dread painted the surrounding faces. Some camouflaging it better than others. Stiles swallowed audibly. They were running out of time.

“I think you should focus on what kind of locator spells resemble the ritual sites we’ve seen.” Peter spoke up as he stood next to Derek now looking down at the table. “If the bags you found were involved in them, it would make sense that they are related. It could be how they’re picking the children and we need to stop them finding the third child.”

“Stop them finding the kids. Stop them finishing the ritual…whatever it may be” Boyd spoke in agreement.

“But they let one go?” Isaac questioned. “Why would they want another.”

“Or they escaped.” Erica noted.

“It’s always in three’s.” Stiles pointed out. “I’ve seen enough horror movies to know that without including what I’ve read up on so far.”

Derek nodded beside him and glanced over towards Allison and Lydia.

“On it.” Lydia replied pulling her notes and books together in a neat pile. Allison nodded in reply as well.

“We don’t know if her being found was an accident or not so keep your eye out for anything suspicious and I’ll let keep you all posted.” Derek said firmly in finality. They’d keep up the search around town whilst Peter was tasked to getting into contact with some old family friends and seeing what he could find.

The Pack nodded and slowly started to gather their things, the tiredness obvious from them all.

“Let me know if you need some help getting past your dad.” Scott patted Stiles arm before standing up and readying to leave. “Nothing like a bit of Stilinski-McCall team work.” He said kindly over his shoulder as he headed for the door.

Stiles gave a tight smile to his friends retreating form. It had been a while since they’d gotten into any mischief together, not that his dad hadn’t dealt with years of it already. Mostly seeing as Scott was splitting his time with Allison now as well. In fact it’d been a long time since they’d last hung out. Scott tended to let him down more often than not so he stopped asking. In a way Scott’s negligence seemed to have helped him hide his ever growing issues and the Pack wouldn’t look into anything too much if Scott wasn’t worried for him. It doesn’t mean he hasn’t felt lonely though.

Everyone said their goodbyes but Stiles lingered back not quite ready to go, following Isaac as he moved towards the lounge. Derek shared a look with Peter over Stiles behaviour but neither said anything as they walked off to their respected parts of the loft, leaving the boys alone. Isaac took one look at Stiles uncertain face as he trailed behind him towards the lounge and not the door. It didn’t take a genius to deduce Stiles wasn’t ready to leave yet so he didn’t say anything about his strange behaviour and just tossed a PlayStation remote from the coffee table at him instead. Stiles flailed around nearly dropping it, in a very Stiles like manor before catching himself and the remote before any damage could be done. 

“Want to play some COD?” Isaac asked. “Or worried I’ll kick your ass?” He finished cockily.

Stiles scoffed but smiled at his friend and retorted. “Please, I’ll eat you for breakfast.”

They both laughed and settled in on the beanbags and began to play their game. Some time had passed but neither seemed to mind as they shared playful banter between them. It was easy and a nice distraction for both. Isaac didn’t miss the way Stiles side eyed the clock every now and then and the smell of stress and anxiety was more present with less people in the room. He came to realise he had never really paid the boy too much attention since his transformation. So he couldn’t pinpoint if his behaviour was that abnormal. He knew the boy to be quite twitchy as it was and his scent was bitter with the lingering smell of the medication he was taking. It reminded Isaac of hospitals so he never really went out of his way to focus on it when he was present. He did note that the smell seemed non-existent at this point and wondered if he was acting this way because he forgot to take it. 

He was surprised how much he was enjoying Stile’s company. He spent most his time with Boyd and Erica these days. He naturally avoided Stiles since before, seeing as he was the Sheriff’s son and he didn’t want anyone to find out about his father. Stiles was always nice to him in the small encounters they did have though and never left him out if he was present.

Stiles was becoming more aware of the time the later it got. He knew he’d have to go home eventually but wasn’t looking forward to walking into an empty house. Not after the scare he had a couple hours previous. He nervously bounced his leg trying to burn off some the anxiety he was feeling and the slight fear encasing his thoughts.

“You guys want some pizza?” Came Derek’s gruff voice from the kitchen as he rummaged through the fridge.

They paused their game to look over at the Alpha who was scrunching his nose in distaste at something in the fridge door. It was all quite domestic. A side of the Sourwolf Stiles still struggled to accept.

“Is that even a real question?” Asked Isaac with a smirk, leaning further into his beanbag and having a good stretch.

Stiles felt a little awkward. He felt intrusive now that it wasn’t a pack thing, yet neither Isaac nor Derek seemed to care. He glanced again at the clock and checked his phone. It was just after 9pm and his dad had messaged him saying he wasn’t sure when he’d be home. He swallowed nervously, the idea of going home not appealing to him at all but he didn’t want anyone to get suspicious. Maybe he could play it off that he was just sick of being alone all the time. What with his dad always on a case and all that. 

Isaac could smell the mixture of feelings coming from the human and he wasn’t sure what to make of it. He knew the signs of someone who didn’t want to go home. It was a personal soft spot of his for obvious reasons and Stiles was lighting up his radar. He filed it away as something he’d look into later.

“Come on man, stay and have some food. I’ll chuck a movie on or something.” Isaac convinced with puppy dog eyes that could compete with Scott.

Stiles chewed on his lip contemplatively before nodding in agreement. “Yeah, alright.” He smiled back at Isaac knowing Derek could hear. “Nothing like a free meal!” He joked.

Derek ignored the two as he grabbed the phone and walked off to make the phone call. Stiles moved himself onto one of the couches whilst Isaac packed away the game console. His thoughts drifted off for a moment as his eyes grew heavy. He recalled the hand around his neck and the ice cold feeling that entrapped his body. He jumped in fright and opened them quickly. Isaac turned around to face him a look of concern on his face.

“You alright man?” He asked quietly.

Stiles licked his lips nervously ignoring the cold sweat that ran down his back. “Yeah, fine. Just a bit cold.” He half lied. “You going to pick a movie or what?” He bantered back trying to distract his werewolf friend.

Isaac eyed him up suspiciously but picked a movie none the less. He chucked on The Avengers which Stiles would never complain about and he sprawled out on the other couch next to him. Stiles forced his eyes to stay open and focus on the movie but every now and then he’d feel a cool chill run up his spine and he’d try and stop a shiver. It wasn’t long until the voices became a bit louder and he was thankful that even with werewolf hearing, Isaac liked to watch his movies loud. He could hear Derek wondering around the loft doing whatever Derek does. He suspected the Alpha was likely looking up kitten videos on his phone and just pretending it was something important. There was a soft side underneath that hard shell and Stiles was determined to prove it. Every once in a while he could feel Derek’s presence behind the couch, most likely watching some of the fight scenes. It was a good movie, even Derek had to think so.

The pizza man came and Derek paid. He dropped a box down onto the coffee table in front of the boys and took the other one with him to the kitchen. The boys mumbled their thanks and took a slice each. Stiles surprisingly didn’t feel that hungry, his stomach feeling tied in knots. He realised the only thing he had eaten that day was breakfast so forced himself to down two slices. Isaac easily ate a third of the box but he didn’t care. He was starting to feel a little nauseated, his body really wasn’t happy with him. He suspected it might have something to do with the withdrawals from his ADHD meds. He discovered the other week when he forgot to take his pills that his scatter brained thought process made it easier to ignore ‘his crazy’ as he liked to call it. It shot his concentration nicely. He was willing to suffer the consequences with his school work at this point and the fact it left him a little jitterier for some peace. He knew he’d have to face it at some point but there was more pressing issues at the moment. Luckily he had the willpower to keep up his research, not that it was an easy task--he could now count up to 30 digits of pie. It was probably lucky he wasn’t getting any sleep, it helped subdue him a little. Again he ignored the feeling for the movie still playing. 

Stiles was watching Iron Man sass the rest of the team when all of a sudden his vision was obscured and a thick material fell on his head. He flailed lightly moving it off to realise it was a big black jumper. He scrunched his brow confused before tilting his head back against the couch to see Derek looking down on him an annoyed scowl on his face. The Alpha didn’t say anything but chose to walk away instead. Stiles looked over to Isaac who watched the small interaction with a curious look on his face but he turned around and continued watching the movie. Stiles felt a little embarrassed. Derek was letting him borrow his clothes. Stiles was definitely taller and broader then when they had first met but Derek was still bigger and had muscles that even Stiles could appreciate. He’d only looked once or twice before, he was a teenage boy filled with hormones, he’s sure it was only natural. Right?

He looked over towards the Alpha who was sitting on a stool at the kitchen counter on his laptop, acting as if nothing just happened. He turned back around and decided not to look a gift horse in the mouth. He pulled the thick heavy jumper over his head, the arms a little longer and the jumper a little roomier then he was used to and tugged up the hood snuggling more into the couch. He let out a silent yawn, his eyes lazily staring at the screen. It didn’t take long before they drooped shut again and he was soothed to sleep by the warmth surrounding him and the calming woodsy and pine smell.

Stiles woke up to his phone vibrating in his pocket. He blinked blurrily rubbing at his eyes and letting out a small wine of protest. His body was content and didn’t want to move. He was warm and for the first time in a long time his body didn’t feel so heavy. Glancing around Stiles realised he was still at Derek’s. He sat up slowly, a brown fluffy blanket falling to his waist. When did that get there? Stiles remembered watching the movie with Isaac and realised he must have fallen asleep. The room was dark, the soft glowing light from the electric fire place creating a nice ambiance. The loft was quiet except for the low hum coming from the fridge. He guessed everyone was in bed. His phone started vibrating again bringing him back to the cause of disturbance from his much needed slumber. He pulled it out of his pocket and glared angrily at the screen.

He took note of the time and Lydia’s name flashing up at him. 

“Are you okay?” He shot quickly, slightly tense, wondering why the red head would be calling at such an hour.

“I figured it out Stiles.” Came the beautiful girl’s voice from the other end of the phone.

Stiles let out a breath he didn’t realise he was holding and relaxed back into the couch. “What are you talking about Lydia?” He mumbled rubbing a hand over his face.

“What do you think?” She deadpanned. “The rituals, obviously.” The girl replied annoyed.

‘Obviously’ Stiles thought. “How could I have missed that?” He spoke back sarcastically rolling his eyes at the ceiling. 

“I don’t know. It probably has something to do with your IQ but we can talk about that later.” She replied seriously. 

Stiles was too tired to argue with the fiery Queen so just let it slide. He pondered momentarily how much coffee the girl had consumed today as she continued in a flurry.

“Peter was right.” She said bitterly, still holding her grudge on the older man.

“Don’t tell him I said that!” She warned.

“The locator spells and ritual sites add up?” He asked, his brain slowly catching up.

“Yes!” She spoke clearing her throat awkwardly after. Stiles guessed to mask her excitement.

Lydia Martin always the professional.

“It’s all about selection. The ritual sites were helping them select the children for sacrifice. Without the right children the resurrection wouldn’t work.” She rambled enthusiastically. “I need that book Peter leant you to reference check a few things but I’m sure this is it.”

Stiles thought he saw movement upstairs and paused for a moment to listen. He couldn’t hear anything so he focused back on the conversation and spoke more quietly.

“How do you know it’s for resurrection and not just power?” He asked curiously.

Lydia scoffed like he wasn’t asking a legitimate question. “It all comes back to the kids they took. They need boys Stiles, that’s why the little girl was let go. They meant to take her twin brother, I’m sure of it!”

Stiles paused trying to remember how the young girl was taken. He does remember something about her walking home from school with her brother. He didn’t realise they were twins but he’s not sure if that is an important factor.

“All the ceremonies I read regarding power needed young virgins and most of them leaned towards young girls.” Stiles mumbled as the clues began to connect.

“Exactly.” She replied.

“So we need to stop them before they get their third boy. Which means they’ll do another ritual. It’ll be too risky to try and take the girls brother now.” Stiles commented quickly.

“If we don’t and they manage to pull up the kind of dark creatures I’m sure you read about as well…”She trailed off.

“We’re screwed.” Stiles finished for her.

 

 

Stiles ended the phone call with Lydia who hadn’t even realised it was four in the morning with the promise of seeing her at school in a few hours. He shoved his phone back in his pocket and leaned back into the couch with a tired sigh. 

“Stiles?” Came the sudden voice behind him.

Stiles flailed around in fright, the blanket wrapping around his limbs as he jumped up with fists blazing. He managed to catch a glance of deep hazel eyes in his spin around before he completely stacked it onto the floor. He didn’t stop his movements, trying to make up for his emasculating tumble and quickly got into some form of intimidating horizontal positon, if that was possible. Derek stood behind the couch with an amused eyebrow raised. The born werewolf still found the humans lack of coordination amusing. It reminded him of the baby dear he use to chase in the woods as a kid. The boy let out a breath and relaxed out of his ‘super intimidating’ fighting stance -It was totally scary! Derek was supressing his fright right now, he knew it.

“Dude! Don’t creep up on people like that.” He exasperated, trying to brush off his embarrassment whilst detangling himself and standing up.

The Alpha cracked a small smile at Stiles letting a quiet snort escape him. He quickly raised a hand to his mouth pretending to clear his throat to cover it up. Stiles just stood their wide eyed in mortification for a moment before grumbling and crossing his arms over his chest. It was a rare occasion to get anything other than a growl out of the older male and he wasn’t appreciating the fact it was at his expense, even if the look suited the wolf. If Derek thought he tried to stand a little taller and push his shoulders back to seem bigger he was imagining things. Stiles always stood like this…

The light from the fire place left the room in shadows but Stiles couldn’t miss the fact Derek wasn’t wearing a shirt. He stood there barefoot in a pair of warn grey track pants hanging low off his hips, his well chizzled chest out on display. The man’s face still held signs of sleep with his hair dishevelled, going off in different directions. It was a vulnerable look Stiles hadn’t seen on the man before and he quickly caught himself from blatantly staring and glanced around the room. 

“I didn’t mean to frighten you.” Derek said in earnest whilst walking closer to the boy, trying his best to keep the mirth out of his voice. He didn’t think he did a very good job considering the sharp glare he got in return. Which if he was honest he found even more entertaining. 

Stiles aggression towards him was taken in the same way he took a cat hissing. It couldn’t really do much damage it was a cat after all but they’re proud creatures and would try anyway. It was cute more than anything else. He’d never say that allowed though.

“You didn’t ‘frighten’ me Derek.” Stiles shot back, waving his arms around. “I was merely on alert seeing as we have ourselves a slight witch-monster-something situation!” He lied back to the older man.

“So I just ‘alerted’ you then?” The wolf replied in the same tone, pointing out how ridiculous it sounded, this time not hiding the obvious disbelief in his voice.

“Yes. And I just reacted in kind!” Stiles replied as if it was obvious.

“In kind of being ‘alerted’?” Derek questioned, provoking the boy further.

Stiles looked at him aggravated. “Oh my god, yes Derek! If you keep asking stup-,”

Stiles was cut off as Derek’s body was suddenly pushed towards him. The older males eyebrows raised in surprise, his hands grabbing onto stiles shoulder and waist as he caught himself before they both tumbled over. Stiles arms reacted in kind and grabbed onto Derek”s forearms leaving less than a foot between them.

“Stop flirting.” Peter’s voice cut through gruffly causing both of them to pause.

The man stood a few feet away observing them critically. It took Stiles brain a second to catch up and realise the intimate situation he was still in. Derek who had yet to realise, was looking at his uncle with an annoyed frown on his face. He relaxed his hold on Stiles but didn’t move away. Stiles moved his own hands and felt a blush creep up his face as he took note of Derek’s bare chest in the glow of the light and his sharp stubbled jaw so close to his own. If he was a lesser man he thinks he may have let out a pathetic wine. And that. That is not okay, he berated himself. He tried to think of Lydia as a distraction from the awkward thoughts he was having about the Alpha of his pack. Beautiful, smart and fierce Lydia. It usually worked but he wasn’t ready to deal with the fact that it wasn’t right now. 

“Was that really necessary?” Derek asked frankly to the other Hale.

Peter just smirked at him, amusement evident in his features.

“Why dear nephew I feel it was. You see, I was having a lovely dream about, well… you may not want to know.” He said with a grin. “When all of a sudden I was rudely awoken to what could have only been an elephant stumbling around our loft.” He finished staring at Stiles.

Stiles looked up ashamed, remembering the embarrassing scene that unfolded just moments before. 

“That wasn’t me!” Derek shot back rather childishly to his uncle.

If Stiles wasn’t feeling so uncomfortable he would have found it amusing. Peter seemed to be able to bring Derek back to his younger years quite easily at times. It was something he thinks the older man enjoyed doing. It reminded Stiles of his own father and how he could pull the same behaviour out of Stiles as well. Small exchanges like this remind Stiles that Derek isn’t that old himself and even with some bad blood between them, Peter was still his uncle. 

“Wasn’t it though?” Peter shot back in kind. “I’m sure by now Derek you are aware that humans don’t have the sight nor smell capability that we possess. This particular flavour of human is also quite excitable. You’ve spent plenty of time sneaking into his window late at night in the past, really you should know better.” He reprimanded connivingly.

And if Stiles wasn’t sure what Peter was insinuating with the flirting comment he definitely got the full idea now. Awkward. Awkward with a capitol A. A for effort to Peter for being A+ at making awkward moments.

Derek felt a little bad. He’d forgotten what it’s like to live with humans. It was so long ago. His mother always instilled in them that they need to be vigilant in making the humans of the house comfortable. That included making yourself announced when you walked into a room as to not startle. His human older brother didn’t seemed to mind though. It was a game between them. Derek would try and sneak up on him at all times of the day and he would try and catch him out. It was mainly done as harmless pranks on both sides. His brother James said it was good practise for them, just in case. Derek smiled inwardly at the memory but was distracted by the scent next to him. He glanced over and realised the younger male’s proximity immediately. His scent was so mixed in with his own he hadn’t realised sooner how close they were. Generally scenting in a pack was common. It was a bonding thing, it made the inner wolf happy and more compliant. He scrunched his nose and took to large steps to the side. He wasn’t sure how he felt about his inner wolf not questioning it on Stiles. It didn’t actually mean there was anything between them…That’d be weird. It was just natural he’d eventually get used to the boy, Stiles was pack…

Derek ignored his train of thought. His uncle was just trying to get under his skin. He wanted a rise and would take anything he could get. He wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction so instead he just sent him a growl.

Stiles just stood stoically, trying to ignore how much warmth Derek had given off and taken with him when he moved away. He almost keeled over though when all off a sudden there was three people now in the room. Just stood behind Derek was a guy who looked eerily familiar to the Sourwolf himself. He wasn’t saying anything just standing back with a happy smile on his face and juggling –of all things- a water balloon in one hand. Both wolves attention shot his way as he was sure his heart rate had sky-rocketed.

“Stiles?” Derek spoke concern in his voice.

Stiles realising all eyes were on him tried to quickly come up with something as explanation. He glanced around the room quickly knowing full well you couldn’t outright and lie to a werewolf. He chose in his mind to just start a new conversation point. That way he wasn’t lying in anyway and they couldn’t fault him on it.

“Soooo, rituals aye?” He spat out. “Crazy things really when you think about it. Yell some old creepy words, spill some blood, do the hoolah and you got yourself 10 arms or something now!” He rambled. “I mean, who couldn’t use extra arms. 10 might be a little to many. They’d definitely get in the way and probably break a lot of stuff. O-My god! Could you imagine trying to sleep? You’d get dead arm times 3 and one dead arm is the worst!” He rambled.

“Stiles.” Peter cut in. 

“Oh! But how good would you be at rock climbing. You could do some sick tricks, like No-Legs! Am I right?!” He said putting his fist out expectantly towards Peter.

He really should have known better but Stiles didn’t do well under pressure. It was a well-known fact. He’s a kettle, he will boil over. Peter looked at his fist and back up to his face with what could only be described as pure snobbery. 

“Stiles.” Derek chided.

Stiles looked over at Derek but could still see the guy behind him, just lingering around like it wasn’t creepy and or scary as hell. He was seriously frayed. They obviously couldn’t see him and he obviously needed to get his shit together.

“Anyyyyway.” Stiles continued looking at Peter. If he was going to fake sanity he couldn’t be staring his insanity in the face. “So Lydia called.”

This got Peters attention. His demeanour leaning more towards curious now then –I will maul you-. 

Stiles decided to give it to them in short. “The sites were location rituals to help the witch-druid-monsters to look for young boys that fit their crazzzzy criteria. Only so they can resurrect something-which lets be serious. Is probably horrifying and eats the hearts of fairies as snacks.” He rushed, his arms waving around in exaggeration. “They meant to grab the little girl’s brother but got her on accident. Girls being for power, boys being for resurrection. Generally anyway. That’s why she was let free-escaped- whatever. So they need one more boy and we only have-,” Stiles paused to look at his phone. It was Friday. “We have till the full moon on Sunday to stop it happening.”

“Shit.” Derek muttered troubled.

“Indeed.” Peter replied to his nephew. “So they’ll have to find a new location to set up and repeat the same ritual. We need to search the woods. The last two were on two different telluric lines coming from the Nemeton, we can start there. ” He spoke evenly towards Derek.

“What should I do?” Stiles asked in earnest.

“We need you to find out more on the little girl. She might hold key information that could help us kill this threat.” Peter spoke back.

“Peter’s right. There’s nothing you can do at the moment though. I assume you can’t get away with waltzing into the police station during school hours, so just go to school and let everyone know what’s happening. Isaac will take the day off and help us search. We’ll let you know if we find anything.” Derek spoke to him assertively before heading back upstairs. His weird clone didn’t follow but instead pelted the water balloon at Derek’s back before disappearing with a faint chuckle.

Derek’s left shoulder flinched but he never turned around. Stiles stood in shock for a moment before remembering Peter was standing their watching him.

“See something you like Mr. Stilinski?” The older man chuckled.

Stiles blushed. “Shut up Peter.” He griped.

The man didn’t reply but let out a quiet yawn as his eyes dazed off to nowhere. He could hear Derek knocking on a door. Probably waking up Isaac. 

“I suppose I should go.” Stiles sighed picking up the blanket, folding it and putting it back on the couch.

He lazily grabbed his bag letting out a yawn of his own before heading towards the door, resigned to the idea he won’t be getting any more sleep. He turned to say goodbye but Peter was already gone. 

Rude.

He pulled into his drive way and sighed looking at his dad’s empty parking bay.

It wasn’t until he was walking up the stairs to his room he realised he was still wearing Derek’s jumper.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay!!!!!!!!!!!!  
> I hit over 100 story subscribers! Considering this is my first story and I'm working on my writing you have no idea how happy this makes me. :P
> 
> I appreciate all the Kudos and Comments. You help keep me going. :)  
> So we got a little hint at Sterek with some awkward interactions in there.  
>  It's a slow burn so be patient. :P  
> Also I have a soft spot for Peter in this fic. We'll get more Peter interactions as well because its just fun.
> 
> And whedonwheezes made some cover art inspired by my story. Here's the link: http://archiveofourown.org/work/6733489  
> Check it out.  
> I find it amazing and it makes me so happy to inspire people with my writing. So I hope I can continue to get better and make you all feel the feels hahaha
> 
> Let me know what you think. :)


	6. Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things start heating up.

Stiles felt like today was the longest school day he’d experienced in years. That included all the times he had to sit through class and pretend someone in the pack wasn’t currently in the middle of a supernatural crisis. On more than 3 occasions today he’d wondered if sticking a pen into his hand was worth getting out of class early…He’d seriously contemplated it. He’d brought the book to school for Lydia who somehow looked more alive than he did. She hadn’t stuck around long after that, feigning sick in the name of research. She went home with the promise of coming up with something that would help Derek and Peter’s search. The rest of the pack took on the information with sullen faces but after an influx of phone calls to their Alpha remained in school under his order. Derek seemed adamant that no matter what was happening he’d rather the teenagers keep up their school work then ditch and only be running around lost with nothing much to do but fret. He had it under control for now with Peter and Isaac and would talk to them again when their day was over. No one mentioned Lydia’s absence in more fear of her reaction then the Wolf’s. Stiles was left to wait for the end of the day before he could go to the Sheriff’s station and do what he does best; lie, scheme and gather information. Amongst other things.

As soon as the last bell rang he was up and out of his seat before anyone else had even thought about it. He ran past Scott and Jackson in the hall. Scott called after him but he didn’t stop, pushing his way through all the bodies fighting to get outside and to his car. He made it to the Jeep in record timing, quickly reversing out of the parking lot and heading across town. Isaac had sent out a group message saying that they found another ritual site –Thanks’ to Lydia-. He could imagine how the Alpha would have taken her skipping school it probably involved a lot of growling and raised eyebrows but in the end it was Lydia. The girl did as she pleased and even Derek knew it was a lost cause. In reality she was the safest bet in regards to keeping her grades up whether she missed class or not. So now they knew the next kid had already been picked. It was only a matter of time before he was taken.

Stiles figured his best bet was to somehow get the Sheriff out of his office and leave him in there un-supervised. He’d already double checked the house this morning for his dad’s case files or stray notes but he was really keeping it to his chest at this point. He knew it wasn’t good if his father was carting the files around with him at all times. He quickly stopped off at the local burger joint and picked up his dad something to eat. He tried to get the healthiest option but he knew it was kind of a lost cause at this point. His dad had messaged him at lunch, which he spent most of his time in a corner of the library ignoring the ever present chatter around him. He thought it ironic when he found himself in the sci-fi fantasy section without thinking, books on werewolves and the like filling the shelves around him. He’d even snorted when he glanced the title on a book about chakras. He secluded himself because it was easier to avoid the Pack then have to plaster on his façade. 

It was wearing on him.

His father had apologized about not coming home last night. ‘Big case’ and all that. He wasn’t sure how late he was going to be again and had told Stiles to not wait up. Stiles was glad in a way because it meant his father hadn’t been home for his freak out or late return but at the same time he felt sad. He definitely missed his dad and wondered when they’d get to spend some real time together again. It was partially his fault as he purposely avoided the man but he still thinks it’s a necessary evil. He wants to keep him safe. His dad’s all he has left.

He parked across the street from the station and hopped out, greasy food bag in hand. He waited at the traffic lights to cross the street, not wanting to get caught J-walking right in front of a police station. He’d done it before and offcourse he got an earful. As he waited for the light to go green he felt a hand pat him on the shoulder. He turned his head to see a little old lady staring up at him with kind eyes and big glasses. She was wearing a floral attire with a handmade purse at her side, it was slightly frayed but obviously well loved. It reminded Stiles of something he would have made his mum for Mother’s Day as a kid, bright colours and all. The wind blew past and he caught the faint smell of what he could only compare too his childhood as well. It reminded him of the few days he spent in the old day-care centre when his mum was sick and his dad had work so no one could watch him. He remembers hating the place, he was the oldest boy there and felt ridiculous. Melissa offered to help out and he never had to go back, thank-god. It threw him off a little, it was a weird thing to associate with anything, especially a stranger. He blames his ADHD though for his random thought process and doesn’t linger on it.

“Excuse me young man, could you please help me cross the street?” She said with a kind smile, pointing in the direction next to him, rather than across.

“My eyes aren’t as good as they use to be.” She finished pushing up her glasses and smiling up at him again.

“No problem, it’d be my pleasure.” He agreed, being ever the gentleman he was.

It wasn’t like the detour would really be a problem and she held something behind her eyes that reminded Stiles a little of Grandma Stilinski, innocent until proven otherwise. She use to sneak him candy when his dad wasn’t looking and help Stiles plan his next prank. It really must be a Stilinski gene. He smiled softly at the thought. She died a few years before his mum. His dad talks about her every now and again. He never got to meet his Gran on his mum’s side so he took to his dad’s mum quite strongly. He still remembers being confused about her death as he thought he saw her sometimes sitting with his dad in his home office as he worked and she knitted. It seemed to make his dad sad when he brought it up so he stopped mentioning it. It took him a while to realise it was just his imagination wishing she was around. His kid way of grieving he guesses. 

Stiles lifted his arm for the old lady to take and led them over to the other crossing. 

“What’s your name son?” She asked softly, looking at him with curiosity.

“It’s Stiles.” He spoke back to her politely.

She perked up a little at his name looking somewhat pleased and nodded.

“You’re a very nice young man Stiles. Not many people would help out a little old lady like me. It’s not like it used to be.” She spoke to him eyes lost in thought.

Stiles smiled down at her. “Well their missing out aren’t they.”

She chuckled and patted his arm in earnest. “You’re very sweet. What are you doing here today Stiles? It looks like bringing someone food.” She glanced at his side.

Stiles nodded back at her observation, burgers still in his opposite hand. “I thought I’d bring my dad some food. He’s been really busy lately working a case.”

“You’re dad works at the station?” She asked glancing over his shoulder to take in the direction he was heading before. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to keep you.” She spoke a little worried. “You’re a good boy bringing your father food.” She added.

“He’s the Sheriff actually, but it’s okay. His body can wait for this cholesterol hit.” He said with a shake of the bag. “Besides I wouldn’t be his son if I turned you down.” He smiled back with what he hopped was sincerity. He hasn’t used it for a while.

The walking man turned green and Stiles helped the lady cross before she could feel too bad about delaying his initial plans. They got to the other side and Stiles went to drop his arm. The older lady held it for a moment more though giving it a tight squeeze.

“Thank you so much Stiles. Please thank your father for me as well.” She stared up at him in earnest. 

“My poor little grandson Joel was taken a few nights back now and I can’t tell you how worried we all are. I don’t think my son or his wife has slept since it all started... He contacts me a lot more than usual.” She said staring of into the distance.

“Which is to be expected I suppose.” She quickly added, bringing herself back to the present. “I might as well live with him at this point. Not that I mind, I want our little man brought home just as much.” She sighed looking grim. “As you can imagine it’s not looking very good at this point…”

Stiles heart sunk a little. “My dad’s doing the best he can I promise” He spoke earnestly. “He won’t stop until he find’s your grandson and I’ll make sure to keep feeding him so he’s at his best.” He smiled weakly at the older lady, trying to sound reassuring. She let his arm go with a final pat and a sad smile.

“It was nice to meet you Stiles. I’ll let you be on your way now, we don’t want to keep your father waiting.” She said with mock stirnesss and a warm smile.

There was something in her eyes that Stiles couldn’t read but it wasn’t bad, whatever it was.

Stiles nodded his head, not sure there was anything more to be said. The situation was dire and now that he had a face to put to one of the family members it made the whole thing more real. He felt sick and the ever pressing need to find whatever was doing this and kill it was growing stronger. Stiles turned away and started heading back across the road, the man blinking green again.

“Stiles!” Called the old lady’s voice, causing him to pause mid walk and turn around.

She was standing on the side walk, a knowing look on her face.

“Can you smell petrol?” She asked, a defiant look in her eye.

Stiles scrunched his eyebrows confused. Then a car honked loudly pulling his attention. He leaped out of the way back onto the footpath nearly tripping over himself, his heart beating fast in his chest. The man inside the vehicle who looked like the guy who lived down the street yelled at Stiles through the window before driving past. When Stiles turned to look for the older lady she was already gone and he was left wondering what the hell just happened?

 

Stiles collected himself and continued his way to the station. He greeted Tara at the door who gave him a polite smile and waved him through. He walked through the bustling station and made his way towards the Sheriff’s office. He noted Parrish asleep in his chair, feet perched on his desk and head slouched back with a folder covering his face. Stiles knew everyone was working hard to find these kids and could only hope it came to resolution smoothly. He doubted it though, with the supernatural involved it was bound to be messy. He let out a sigh and tried not to dwell on it. They still had time. He knocked on his father’s office door. The man was at his desk, papers all over the place and currently on the phone looking rather frustrated. The Sheriff looked up and gave his son a small smile waving him in. Stiles let himself in and made himself comfortable in his usual seat.

“-I told you, we already looked into that and came up with nothing. All the kids’ teachers have alibis, we checked twice.” He growled into the phone, running a hand over his face. “Yes! Even the god-dam gardeners.”

His father paused for a moment and looked at Stiles with a –What the fuck is wrong with people face- making Stiles snort.

“Look Jerry I have to go! I have useful things to do, like not sit here and listen to you questioning how I run my case.” He finished the conversation by hanging up and putting the phone down with a little more force then necessary. The man let out a sigh and leaned back in his chair. “Idiot.” He grumbled.

Stiles smiled at his father. “Jerry’s still a pain in the arse as usual I see?”

John looked at his son with a tired smile on his face. “The day Jerry retires, I think the office will throw a party.” He replied with a light chuckle.

Jerry used to be the Sheriff but got voted out and his dad voted in. The man has been trying to weasel his way back in for years. He’d moved out of the county and joined another department when it happened. He’s still bitter about it that’s for sure. The man has been calling and badgering the station whenever he sees a chance. All the deputies have a Jerry story. Tara told him once about the time the man had paid people to act for him and pretend that he had saved a lady from a mugging. He didn’t account for the actor-said lady- to call in 2 hours beforehand and let them know it wasn’t true. Apparently she liked Jerry as much as everyone else. Tara enjoyed shoving it in his face though. He hasn’t tried anything as elaborate since. His dad let him off lightly, if only out of respect for his years of service. He could have gotten in a lot more trouble. 

“I brought you some food.” Stiles said dropping the bag onto his desk innocently enough.

His dad opened the bag and glanced at him sceptically. “What’s the catch?” He asked, pulling out a burger and eyeing it carefully. “It’s not from that rabbit food place is it?” He said raising a brow.

It wasn’t that unusual for Stiles to come bearing gifts but he still felt the slight twinge of guilt knowing his intentions weren’t so genuine. Again.

Stiles laughed anyway. “You mean the vegan place? No.” He smiled. “I just wanted to do something nice seeing as you haven’t been home and I doubt you’ve had a proper meal today.” Not that he considered this a proper meal but he didn’t have time to swing home and cook one. 

His dad looked at him thoughtfully before slowly un-wrapping his food, still slightly cautious. He gave it a sniff before deeming it alright and taking a bite. Stiles scoffed in disbelief at his dad’s behaviour.

“I’m not out to poison you, you know?” 

“I don’t know about that.” His dad said around his food. “I’m still not sure what you were trying to do making me eat that to-furkey…thing? It was close to poisoning.” He finished with another bite of his burger. 

Stiles sat pretending to be offended. “Hay, I’m just making sure you don’t eat yourself to an early grave.”

“You feed me that stuff again and I might put myself in an early grave.” His dad shot back with fake seriousness. 

“Good to know…” Stiles joked sarcastically. “I need to go to the shops tomorrow. I feel like I’m forgetting something though? I don’t know, sounds kind of like bacon? I’m sure it’s not important.” He finished waving his hand dismissively with a cheeky grin on his face.

He would let his dad have a cheat meal once a week. It usually involved bacon with a big Sunday breakfast that Stiles would cook and they’d enjoy together. On the odd occasion it was pancakes and his dad still always insists on cooking those. He’s always made a mean chocolate chip pancake, even Scott use to try and get in on them. He usually looked forward to it but things have been different lately and it doesn’t always end up happening…

“You wouldn’t do that to your old man would you?” His dad feigned upset. “I raised you from a young pup, let you drive the car into the drive way and taught you how to throw a ball. I even gave you ice cream for desert when your mum was staying late at work.”

Stiles stifled another laugh, the mention of his mother only a small pang but more of a warm thought. He sometimes forgets how much he takes after his father. His dad can dribble as much nonsense as him if he feels like it. 

“If I remember right. Which I’m pretty sure I do. You taught me how to throw a ball using the neighbour’s car window as an aiming point. Not only did it smash, but you asked me to take the fall and then ran away,” He fired back.

John had the decency to look sheepish. “Look, see. I didn’t think you’d be able to throw that far. You were only young and Mrs. Williams had a soft spot for you.” He tried to sound convincing. “Also I didn’t want your mother to yell at me again after the letter box incident. I was tasked to fixing up Mr. Jeffery’s house for a week. Whose fault was that?” he replied.

“Also not my fault.” 

“It was your idea.” Shot John.

“Dad I was 7, you shouldn’t have listened to 7 year old Stiles. I was a menace and you know it.” Stiles piped back.

“You’re still a menace.” John replied smugly looking at his son with affection. “It sounded like fun at the time.” The Sheriff shrugged, with a laugh like that made it all okay.

“It was.” Stiles joined in with a genuine smile of his own. The knot in his stomach unravelled a fraction.

They bantered back and forth a little while longer. John visibly relaxed, his son a nice distraction after a long week. He finally got to question the young girl yesterday afternoon and found out she had managed to escape when the people who captured her were arguing. The more worrying thing was that they had apparently made a mistake. It wasn’t even her they had meant to take, it was her brother. This and the fact they needed the three boys to finish some sort of ritual from what he could gather. The girl hadn’t cottoned on to the grand scheme of it all but she knew enough for them to put the pieces together themselves. They were really dealing with a couple of nut jobs here and he had the FBI breathing down his throat to find them. If he didn’t sort it out soon they’d be taking the case in a heartbeat.

His deputies were trying their best though, he would give them that. Everyone was running at 110% capacity to try and find these kids before they were most likely killed. It wouldn’t be a nice death either, he had one of the deputies look into any other cases reported like this. There wasn’t a lot but the few on record were scarring enough. One thing he knew though was they were after another boy. He had every deputy available watching the streets, heavily armed and focusing mainly on areas kids are more likely to be present such as schools, parks and malls. He placed a curfew on the town and each school was warned. He had a town of freaked out civilians and he couldn’t do much to comfort them at this point.

The young girl of 10 was still in shock and a little beaten and bruised. She couldn’t remember everything. She mentioned a male and female assailant and that they were being kept in a place with no windows. It was dirty, smelt funny and had a lot of brownish sticky stains that John was worried was blood and other body fluids. She couldn’t remember how she got to the park off George Street where she was found, just that she felt like she’d been walking for a long time. She was huddled in her blanket and spoke with a shaking voice about the other boys and how they use to cry at first. She said that the boy with black hair-Dylan-, who was the one first taken looked sick and hadn’t moved much the last few days. The blonde hair boy Joel who was only 8 kept saying he was hungry and then would get sick when they allowed them to drink water.

John feared the worst. He had some of his men searching basements around the areas each kid was taken. The public hadn’t been given the details and they tried to keep it minimal with the families as well. The clock was ticking and he had spent the last hour going over the similar cases his deputy had found. Most of it had ended with at least one child death, the blame being on cults and the like. John found it peculiar that they never specifically mentioned what type and yes, there were a few. It was a side of the world John hated to see but he chose this line of work and knew he’d be seeing the worst in the world. It came with the job title. On days like this though when it felt like too much he had to remind himself of all the good he’d done and the people he had saved. It helped him keep pushing.

“How’s the case going?” Stiles asked bringing them both back to the present.

“Honestly?” John asked. “Not well. We still have two kids missing and we’re worried about their health. The window of possibility is getting immensely smaller now. Most trails have gone cold and we’re working on theory alone.” He relented, looking aged beyond his years.

Stiles understood the likelihood of finding a missing person after 72hours was grim and the first kid has been gone for a couple weeks now. His dad had the sniffer dogs out as soon as it all started and they’d found nothing. He wasn’t surprised, he already knew the werewolves were at a loss as well.

“I got frantic family member’s calling every 5 minutes for updates and not much to tell them. And what I do know, I don’t want to tell them. One of the fathers only just lost his mother 4 months before, his family was still taking it hard before this happened.” He finished starring off into the distant lost in thought.

Stiles felt bad for his father. He didn’t know what he was really dealing with and looked at a loss to what the next step was. He had all his men doing everything by the book. Doing everything possible really. But he didn’t know the whole story and it was hindering his search. It made Stiles resolve to find these kids even stronger. 

“You’ll find them dad. I know you will.” Stiles spoke with assurance.

His dad looked at him with a sad but thankful smile. “Thanks kiddo, I’ll try my best.”

“Sheriff?” Came a quick knock at the door.

Deputy Parrish poked his head in the door with a worrying look on his face. He still had what looked like a faint paper clip mark pressed on his cheek.

“Parrish?” Asked the Sheriff, watching the man from his desk. “What’s wrong?” He asked sitting up straighter and more alert.

Parrish looked towards Stiles and then back to the Sheriff unsure if he should proceed. The Sheriff gave him a reassuring nod indicating it was okay. Stiles watched on curiously from his seat in-between them.

“Another boy has gone missing.” He spoke solemnly.

Stiles was filled with dread understanding the indication of it all. 

“Who?” Asked John already out of his seat and heading towards the door.

“Pastor Frazer’s son Malcom.” The deputy replied. “He called it in 5 minutes ago. We already have two cars on their way.”

“Shit!” His father cursed half way out the door. “Get a dog unit out their too! This could be our last chance to get a lead to catch the assailants.” He spoke with authority.

“Yes Sir!” Deputy Parrish replied before rushing away.

His father paused mid stride and turned back towards Stiles. “Sorry Son I have to go.” He said looking at Stiles with guilt in his eyes. “Once this is all over I want to have a chat with you okay? It’s important.” He said seriously gaining Stiles attention immediately.

Stiles sat up in his seat, his dad’s tone making him nervous. He swallowed quickly and licked his lips.

“Sure dad. Whenever you like, I’ll be there.” He replied earnestly, somewhat concerned.

His dad left him with a half-smile and nod before hurrying off, grabbing his jacket and belt of the hook on the way.

Stiles felt the guilt creep into his gut and seep out his pores. He was a terrible son and he knew it. He glanced out the glass windows and made sure no one was watching before making his way around the other side of his dad’s desk. He pulled out the thumb drive he’d sneakily put in when handing his dad his lunch. It was programmed to run in the background and take all the files with the specific keywords Stiles had selected earlier. He’d paid Danny a pretty penny for it earlier in the year knowing it’d come in handy. Hopefully it’d have a lot of the Sheriff’s notes and findings so far.

His dad was old fashioned in the way he preferred pen to paper like Stiles. He was required to now have a digital copy of everything on file for easy access in sharing with other departments and the like. He still remembers his dad grumbling about it when the policy came into office a few months back. He’s pretty sure his dad just gets Jessica, one of the newer recruits to scan it all for him so he doesn’t have to. He’s not overly gifted with technology.

Knowing he doesn’t have much time before someone notices his lingering presence he quickly takes out his phone and takes photos of everything his dad had on his desk. It would be all the newer information and Stiles didn’t want to take the chance that his father hadn’t gotten it onto his computer yet. He sends a quick text to Derek and Lydia about the new information on the missing boy Malcom and that his dad’s on his way there whilst he’s getting them more information now. Derek so he can do something about it and Lydia so she can help tell everyone else. He shoves his phone back in his pocket after shooting an email to himself with the photos and shuffles the papers around making sure he hasn’t missed anything.

A picture falls out of one of the stack’s he picked up and it catches his eye immediately. It was of a young boy with blonde hair and a chubby smile. His two front teeth were missing and he had chocolate smudged on his face and a badge on his shirt with the number 6 on it in bright neon green. That wasn’t what got his attention though…Standing beside the young boy was the woman he met not an hour ago with the same floral outfit and the same colourful bag on her arm, yet in slightly better condition. They were standing in front of a playground that Stiles recognised from when he was younger. It was the old day care centre he’d spent only a few horrible days at. He flipped the photo over and scrawled on the back was ‘Joel and Marian’ with the date from a few years ago.

He realised this must be Joel that the older lady- who he now realised he never got the name of- was talking about. The kid was holding her hand and she was looking down at him with what Stiles could easily recognise as love and from the badge on his shirt he gathered it was Joel’s birthday at the time. It was a bit of a coincidence that she’d reminded him of such a place after so long and to then see it in the picture in front of him. But then something clicked, a stray thought floating by like an itch that needed to be scratched.

What if it was relevant?

He opened his dad’s laptop not even caring anymore that he’d stayed past his welcome and hurriedly typed in his father’s password. He was skimming through the files until he found the ones he needed and opened them up. He found more photographs of the families, with the most resent being the ones the parent’s had obviously picked for the police to use to identify them. When he got to Joel again he skimmed the file, more curious than anything else and read something ridiculously disturbing. Joel’s grandmother Marian had died 4 months ago from a long term illness. This must have been what his dad was talking about. He could have brushed it off as this being the boy’s mother’s parent instead of the fathers but he was 300% sure the woman in the photo and the one he met today were one in the same.

He swallowed nervously and his hand’s started to shake. How was this even possible? Had he seen the photo when he was trying to take a sneaky peak at his dad’s files when he was home and somehow conjured up the whole thing in his mind? Was he really that far gone? He walked her across the street. They had a whole conversation and he can even remember the feel of her arm patting his shoulder. 

Holy Shit.

He felt like his eyes could have bulged out of his head in shock. Had he been talking to himself? Walking around looking like a complete nutter? 

Stiles thought’s paused only long enough for him to think about the one thing he’d forced himself to ignore. The one thing he’d pushed down so god-dam deep! He’d never have to deal with it-because he knew not only that he couldn’t but that neither could his dad. It wasn’t allowed to be real. It couldn’t happen. 

He was not ending up like his mother.

Stiles could feel the start of a panic attack setting in. He pulled back from the laptop with shaky breaths and slammed it shut. He managed to quickly grab his things and drag himself out of the station before anyone could see him break down. His breathing became more rushed and urgent and his eyes kept focusing in and out on his surroundings. He managed to stumble across the road without getting hit by a car in what could only be a miracle and ignored the horns and shouts in his wake. 

He fell to his knees beside his jeep and emptied the contents from his stomach. He leant his head into the metal of the door trying his best to pull himself back together. The whispers became louder and louder now, fighting with the noise from his own heart as it beat at his chest fiercely. He could feel the tears running down his face but was in no state to stop it. He banged his head into the car door and let out a low whimper in despair. He pulled at his collar desperately, his whole body shaking now. Black dots started to blur his vision as his body struggled for oxygen. He was going to pass out any moment.

All of a sudden a warm grounding hand was placed on his shoulder and he was pulled away from the car door. His weight landed back into a firm body and then another strong arm snaked around his side. A hand quickly enclosed his own stopping his from scratching at his chest in despiration. He tried to pull it away in an attempt to help him breathe, feeling even more restricted but the arm didn’t budge.

“Stiles.” Came the familiar voice behind him. “Breathe.”

Stiles didn’t have any time to feel embarrassed about the state Derek had obviously found him in as he continued to freak out. Derek didn’t budge though, taking on all his weight as he brought them both to a sitting position. Stiles was wedged against his chest, still facing forward. The man continued to talk quietly to him, trying to calm him down and get him to focus on Derek’s breathing with his own.

“What Street do you live on?” Derek asked quietly.

If Stiles wasn’t so out of sorts he would have smacked the Alpha over the head with a baseball bat for asking such a stupid question. He had a habit of it obviously. 

“Stiles?” The Sourwolf persisted.

“Alpine,” Stiles grunted still trying to even out his breathing.

“And the one over from that?” He asked again.

“Stirling,” Stiles breathed after a moment.

It continued like that for a while longer. Stiles breathing slowly came back to him and his body became more pliant and sagged in relief against Derek’s. He felt exhausted and knew he must look like how he usually feels, but the other man never said anything and continued to ask Stiles random things about his kitchen appliances and bathroom products. It was almost like Derek was well practised at such a thing.

When Stiles finally felt like he could move again Derek released his hold and pulled them both to stand. Stiles legs were shaky at first but the younger Hale let him lean against him for a moment longer before he was alright on his own. Stiles wiped at his face with the sleeve of his shirt in hopes it would do something for him. He glanced around at his surroundings, glad he had made it to the side of his jeep that had hidden him from traffic. The parking lot was pretty much empty and the building next to him was an old office up for sale. He ignored his vomit on the floor and tried not to think about how bad it must have smelt for Derek if he could smell it now himself. He ignored the lingering panic at the thought of what set him off to start and glanced up at the other man nervously. He chewed on his lip out of habit and took in Derek’s facial expression. He was worried what the other would think catching him in such a vulnerable state but Derek didn’t look at him with judgement, he looked at Stiles with understanding and a hint of sadness that Stiles didn’t think was directed at him.

It wasn’t what he had expected at all.

“Ah-I, um-Thanks.” He jumbled out, shaking his arms a little to try and rid some of the nervous energy.

“That’s alright.” The Alpha replied kindly. 

It wasn’t a tone he was overly used to coming from the man. They spent most their time together in comfortable banter but it felt like a genuine response none the less.

“I got your text.” Derek supplied. “Came to see how you went?”

Stiles was grateful he wasn’t pushing him to answer any questions about what just happened. The wolf obviously realised whatever it was probably shouldn’t be brought up given the givens and all that. Stiles let out a sigh and leaned his weight onto the jeep again. 

“I managed to get it all on my thumb drive but haven’t had a chance to go through it yet. The girl’s statement should be on here though so hopefully it answers some of our questions.”

Derek nodded looking pensive. “Peter and Isaac are resting and the girls are at Alison’s reading up on Darachs and how to kill them. Deaton is pretty sure that’s what we’re dealing with now.” Stiles nodded in kind, taking in that information. 

Evil druid, awesome…

“Scott and Jackson are trying to sniff around where the latest boy was taken, hopefully they come up with something before your dad catches them.” He said with a small smile.

Stiles gave him a weak one back amused at the man’s thoughts. His dad may be human but he’s not incompetent. He’s the Sheriff for a reason. “Scott’s well-rehearsed in dealing with a Stilinski talking-too. They’ll be fine.”

“Boyd?” Asked Stiles.

Derek smirked. “Boyd’s lingering around Allison’s waiting for Erica. He said he was just hanging around for safety reasons but-”

“He’s as subtle as a brick to the face?” Stiles provided, finishing the sentence for Derek.

“Something like that.” 

They both stood silent for a moment lost in their own thoughts.

“I really should head home and start digging into these files.” Stiles said, fishing in his pocket for his keys.

“Good idea.” The Alpha stated with a smirk on his face as he dangled Stiles keys off his finger. “I’ll drive.” He finished over his shoulder as he walked around the car.

Stiles scoffed but decided against protesting and just went with a feigned glare instead. He tiredly opened the passenger door and pulled himself in. He wouldn’t admit it but, the wolf made him feel safe right now. Even if it was from himself. He realised the voices had quietened down when Derek started talking to him before and were pretty much non-existent at this moment. It was a blessing at this point. It wasn’t long before he had drifted into a light sleep the familiar calming smell that he now recognised as Derek’s filling up the space around him.

 

Derek drove towards Stiles house, sending concerned glances at the sleeping body beside him every few minutes. He technically hadn’t lied when he told the younger male he came to ask him what he found. It was half the truth. He was about to join Jackson and Scott on their search of the new crime scene when he had a tight feeling in his chest that he couldn’t quite explain and felt a strong need to seek the other out. Not being one to ignore his instincts Derek decided to leave the boys too it and find the human boy in his pack instead. He smelt Stiles panic before he even saw him and didn’t think twice about pulling his body into his own. 

Derek knew exactly what was happening he use to have panic attacks all the time after the fire. It took him years to get it under control and even now, once in a blue moon a bad nightmare could set him off. They’re not as bad as they used to be but they’re anything but pleasant. He wasn’t sure what set Stiles off but it couldn’t be anything good. He tried to remember if he noticed anything odd in his behaviour lately but couldn’t remember anything specific. The boy was more jittery then usual but held his usual level of sass and snark. His scent was a mix of anxiety and fear at the moment but that was understandable. It’d been a while since he’d checked in on his only human pack member –Argent was still on the fence- and it seems he’s missed something in doing so. He noticed the other night Stiles seemed somewhat lonely so he didn’t question it when he wanted to hang around. He was planning on asking Scott to check up on the boy but from the smell on Stiles now, he hadn’t really spent much time with any pack member recently. 

That concerned him more. 

He used to spend more time with Stiles, back when he had it. He couldn’t remember when it first started but he felt drawn to Stiles. Sometimes finding himself at the Stilinski’s house after getting lost in thought on a run. They fight a lot, if he was honest but it was never with ill intent. Stiles would always tell Derek what he thought, even if it was infuriating. It was a needed change when people usually shied away from him or him away from people. Even from the beginning Stiles lack of self-preservation put him in Derek’s line of sight. It was a good thing that for whatever reason, instead of wanting to maul him-most the time- he found Stiles presence….endearing in a way. He’s not sure if that makes him crazy but he’s alright with it for now. It kept things interesting. It helped pull him out of his shell as well. He struggled to communicate with people in the beginning, being more closed off then anything. But Stiles wouldn’t let him sulk or get away with just a raised brow, he was always persistent in getting a response. It use to get under his skin at first and he found the only means to get his message across was with a bit of man handling and teeth. So it became a kind of past time to threaten the younger boy and watch him squirm. It wasn’t as efficient these days but it still got the message across when he needed it too. 

He pulled up at the Stilinski’s and Stiles jumped awake staring around confused for a moment. His eyes lingered on Derek and he thought he smelt… arousal? But it was soon replaced with something else and the boy jumped out of the car in haste. Derek ignored it, it wasn’t the first time he’d taken a whiff of the pungent scent from any of the teenagers. It was something he had to deal with as a werewolf often. It made going into schools uncomfortable but it was generally underlining most teenager’s usual scents. He’s glad to be past that stage in his life. Stiles didn’t say anything but continued towards the front door and Derek followed.

Stiles hurried up the steps of the porch, eager to get some space between him and the wolf. He’d woken up a little disorientated and may have let a stray thought slip through when his eye’s fell on the other man in the car. He was a human teenager. He hoped Derek didn’t think much of it. He was just glad the wolf couldn’t tell what he was thinking, now that would have been awkward. He blames it on the other man’s smell. He needs to chill out on the aftershave or something because he swears it just makes him drowsy for some reason. In his tired state it had sent his thoughts back to the night before when he was a little to close and a little too warm next to the other man. He felt Derek’s presence behind him and turned slightly, hand out, asking for his keys. Derek dropped them into his palm and Stiles unlocked the front door. Knowing they were still on a time restraint Stiles didn’t waste a moment, clambering up the stairs towards his room. He pushed his door open, ignoring the mess and made his way towards his desk where he’d put his laptop earlier. He pulled up his chair and sat down, plugging in the thumb drive.

“So from the quick skim of my dad’s notes so far, there’s two assailants. Which we already knew off course.” He spoke, not looking away from his screen as he started clicking away. “One’s female and one’s male, if that help?” He added, glancing to his left quickly to where Derek was leaning against his desk, watching the computer screen.

He found himself at perfect crutch height with the older male and if that wasn’t an awkward enough thought, he didn’t know what was. He licked his lips nervously and berated himself, quickly looking back towards the screen killing that inappropriate seed of thought before it could sprout. He sorted through a few more folders until he found the one he wanted. It was a scanned copy of the young girl’s statement and his dad’s notes scribbled on the side. 

“This is it!” He exclaimed excited, pulling his chair in closer and practicly shoving his nose into the screen.

He felt Derek move behind him to read over his shoulder and they both were quite for a few minutes as they read. Stiles made a few comments when Derek couldn’t decipher his dad’s hand writing but they got the general idea.

“So they argued- she got away. She had her hands tied but they weren’t tied to anything. The first boy Dylan is in a pretty bad way and the second Joel is not far behind.” Stiles mumbled aloud. “Yadda, yadda-Ooo. This is what we want. Dark room that smells. No windows-charming. Possibly blood-that’s always fun. Ahhh and ‘cult’ like drawings- is what my dad wrote on the side. Hmm.” Stiles continued to ramble. “She hasn’t described the attackers at all which sucks. She was found near the George Street Park, so that’s something.” Stiles finished leaning back in his chair a little.

Derek’s phone starts ringing loudly to the side of Stiles head causing him to nearly flail of his chair. Derek let out a snort at his behaviour before fishing out his phone and answering it.

“Scott?”

“DEREK!?” Scott yelled back into the phone loud enough for even Stiles to hear. 

“What’s wrong? What’s happened?” Shot the Alpha, his stance changing immediately.

“Jackson caught a scent and we followed it! I know we should have waited but we didn’t want to lose it.” He rambled. “We ah- we found an evil druid dude. H-he did something to Jackson and he’s not doing good man. I’m sorry!” 

“Where are you?” Derek growled down the line.

Shouts and scrambling could be heard for a moment before Scott’s voice came through again.

“Preserve. East of your old house.”

“I’m on my way!” Called Derek half way out of Stiles window.

Stiles sat there un-moving watching the scene unfold. He could only hear bits and pieces of the conversation. 

“Derek.” Scott whispered next causing the man to pause. “He’s still out here.” 

Then the phone went dead.

“Fuck!” Derek yelled, kicking himself for not sending Peter with them.

He didn’t think they’d actually come across anyone. Not after how well they were hiding their presence before.

“What’s happening?” Stiles asked standing from his chair concerned, watching the Alpha.

“Scott and Jackson are in trouble.” Derek spoke over his shoulder. “Keep reading Stiles, we need to find both these fuckers…and when I do, I’m going to rip their fucking throats out” He bared his sharp canines. “With my teeth.” 

And with that the Alpha dropped out of sight.

Stile’s felt sweat collect at the base of his neck as his nervous energy worked its way back to the surfice. He looked towards his baseball bat leaning on the wall behind his door and contemplated following the older male for a moment. He promptly decided against it though knowing he could end up getting in the way instead. Something that really annoyed him to no end. If only he was stronger. Without further deliberation he jumped back onto his computer and began speed reading. He couldn’t get much more information from the little girl besides that she was apparently captured by ‘monsters’. Stiles thinks his dad didn’t take it the way young girl had meant it. It took him a few minutes but after viewing the pictures –And seriously ignoring them at the same time- he remembered his earlier thought of the day-care centre.

It took him a little longer then he’d liked but after some thorough digging he found that each boy had attended the scouts program at least once before, even the little girl that was found had gone with her brother. He already knew they didn’t all go to the same school so he wondered if this was the connection they were looking for. He hastily pulled up google and typed in ‘Beacon Hill’s Day Care Centre’. A few pictures and news articles came up first in the search results. The place had been closed down a few years ago because it couldn’t bring in the client tell anymore. It was close to the edge of town, a bit out of the way for a lot of people but he remembered a lot of mum’s saying they liked it because it had a bit of land for the kid’s to play on.

They use to have a scouts program and they’d take the kids out on mini excursions into the forest. A kid went missing on one of the excursions not long before it closed down and it seemed to deter a lot more parents even though they stopped the small program. The place has been vacant for a while, mainly home to teenagers doing god knows what. There had been a few rumours that some of the old seniors had booby trapped the place to blow if anyone went in who they hadn’t given permission. Which Stiles thought was incredibly stupid and just asking to die themselves. Some kid had said they used dynamite- not that Stiles think’s they could have got their hands on some, let alone be smart enough to rig it up and not lose their head. The second rumour was a petrol bomb which seemed more realistic but still just as stupid. Sometimes he really thinks the more people who die from doing blatantly stupid shit, the better off society will be. He’d been meaning to visit the place after he heard the rumors, wanting to check it out just incase they were true. The last thing he needed was his dad to blow up in the line of duty because some kid made a prank call.

‘Do you smell petrol?’ Came a soft echo.

Stiles swallowed nervously, ignoring the implications of the memory. The thought stuck in his mind like an annoying tick and he really didn’t think it was relevant considering he was three quarters of the way into his early grave but it wouldn’t leave him. Surely this would be too easy?  
The only way to find out would be to scope the place out though and they didn’t have a lot to go off. He picked up his phone and called Lydia.

The phone rang out so he called back again.

“Stiles?” Came Allison’s voice from the other end.

“Allison?” Stiles asked confused. Then he remembered Derek saying they were together.

“I don’t really have much time to talk right now. Jackson’s hurt.” She stated flatly.

“Shit! Allison, you guys are out there?” He asked concerned.

“You think Lydia was going to hear about Jackson and not go find him? Yeah, we’re out here. It won’t be long now till we find the rest of the Pack. I have to go Stiles.” She finished.

“-Wait!” He yelled back getting her attention. “I’m know you guys are about to go fight to the death and all that but I may have a lead to were the kids could be. I-ah- well I guess I’ll go check it out myself. I assume Erica and Boyd are already there?” He asked quickly, faintly hoping for back up.

“Yeah, they left when Derek called. Be careful Stiles.” She finished.

“You too.” He sighed resigned.

“Always.”

And with that the conversation was ended he shoved his phone back into his pocket and picked up his car keys. He walked up to his old friend, leaning on the wall and picked it up as well, sizing it up In his hands for a moment.

“Well, I guess it’s just you and me this time Ol’ pal.” He spoke to the inanimate object and gave it a small swing before heading down the stairs.

He could do this.

It was for the kids. For his pack.

He had to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Few *wipes brow*  
> So I'm not going to lie, I struggled a little with this chapter. Just because I'm not good with putting together all the CSI detective stuff. So i hope it wasn't too terrible for you.
> 
> Thing's are going to continue to heat up for our little Medium man and more will be revealed.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Let me know what you think in the comments! :)


	7. Caged

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All I can say is... Shit gets real guys.

Scott and Jackson had just rocked up at Derek’s loft when Stiles text came through about the latest kid going missing. It was Pastor Frazer’s only son Malcom who was missing. Scott rememberd seeing the boy around town with his dad a few times before and can’t imagine the boy is any older than 7. It wasn’t exactly normal for Jackson and himself to be together but neither knew what they could do to help at this point-both not fond of reading, so research was out-. So when he mentioned going to see Derek, Jackson was disgruntled but decided to join him.

Derek sent them off to search the area the kid was taken with a ‘Don’t get caught,’ before he was rushing away to go find Stiles who had surprisingly left the message quite short. Scott suspected he would still be at the station digging around and wasn’t sure why the Alpha thought it necessary to go find him. When Stiles knew something he’d let them know, he always did. He was a little put out when Stiles hadn’t asked him for help but figured he must have already planned it all and maybe his presence would just make it too suspicious. He was obviously in a hurry earlier and that’s why he ignored him, so he’d ask him how he managed it later. 

When Jackson yelled after the older wolf asking where to find the area the kid was taken the Alpha had shouted ‘Use your ears!’ over his shoulder before he was gone. Jackson grumbled a little but it was a decent enough answer. As soon as the boys stepped out the loft the bustling sounds of police sirens could be heard from quite a distance. 

They found themselves prowling the outskirts of a suburb just over from his own. It was hard for them to get close without getting in the way or being questioned. There were police cars patrolling all the streets and it seemed to be centred around the local park that backed onto the preserve. They had tried to get closer a few times already but the sniffer dogs seemed to get riled up and he had to shove Jackson into a bush and jump in himself when the Sheriff nearly caught sight of him attempting to hide in someone’s front yard. 

“Try that again McCall and I’ll beat you into the ground!” Jackson barked pushing Scott off him and snapping a twig that was poking him in the face.

“Shut up Jackson!” Scott hissed peering through the branches as another cruiser drove by.  
Jackson let out a low growl but didn’t say another word. He sat up next to Scott as well as he could considering he was hiding in a bush with a branch stabbing into his back. He glared at Scott silently wishing his hair would catch fire and then hoped the stupid shrubbery would light up with it. Scott payed him no mind though and ignored his uncomfortable surroundings to keep his eyes on the scene in front of them. Half of the Beacon Hills Sheriff Department were searching the area and it’d been a close call getting to where they are now. They had to wait and see what areas had already been searched before they could back track and get close enough.

Stiles dad was standing next to his car talking to what looked like a very out-of-sort Pastor Frazer. The man was arguing with the Sheriff, demanding he find his son. Mr. Stilinski kept a professional face though and tried to calm the man down.

“What was your son doing out here alone Pastor?” The Sheriff asked.

“He wa-he was just meant to come straight home!” The Pastor fretted.

Scott couldn’t see the Sheriff’s face but he suspect’s from the response he gets it was much like his own.

“Don’t judge me Sheriff!” The man yelled. “He was just meant to come straight home from school.”

“So you knew kids have been going missing and thought it a good idea to let your son, of 6 years to walk home? Alone?” The Sheriff deadpanned obviously shocked. 

Scott wasn’t surprised, he couldn’t believe it either.

“Now ignoring the fact that there is someone kidnapping children at all right now. You let your kid walk home from school…at age 6…alone? When the school is at least a 40 minute walk away?” The Sheriff questioned gruffly.

Scott could imagine the judgemental look the Pastor was getting from the other man, he’d seen it enough times himself when Stiles and he got into trouble. The Pastor looked like he had sucked on a lemon before sending a glare back towards the Sheriff.

“Don’t judge me on my parenting Sheriff! We all know how much trouble your son gets into and gets away with.” He spat back. 

Scott felt a small pang knowing it was kind of true. He and Stiles have been caught in the middle of so many messes since he got bitten. He was surprised how vicious a so called ‘Pastor’ was being about it though. They only really got away with it because Mr Stilinski loved Stiles with everything he has and Scott in extension. 

“For a pastor he sure has a stick up his arse.” Grumbled Jackson beside him, sharing in his sentiments. 

“My son is very independent and I encourage that. Now if you could do your job and find the person who has taken him I’d appreciate it. Hopefully you put in a bit more effort because at the moment I don’t feel very reassured.” The man gripped with venom.

John looked a little out of sorts but held his tongue. The deputy next to him –Parrish- he thinks he remembers Stiles telling him once, looked ready to lash out at the man himself. The Sheriff put a hand on his deputy’s shoulder in a silent command to stand down and switched course of the conversation. 

“Who let’s their kid walk home from school that young and that far?” Scott asked sick at the thought.

“A parent who doesn’t care.” Jackson spoke back despondent. 

Scott paused and glanced back at Jackson. He probably hadn’t meant for it to come out with so much of his own emotion, Jacksons not exactly one for sharing. He was busying himself with snapping a small twig, no emotions on his face. Scott chose not to pull him up on it and turned his attention back in front. 

“We need to go around and get to the back of the park where the preserve starts.” Scott broke the silence between them.

“We have to wait out the sniffer dogs.” Jackson grouched, given up on his stick and now just glaring ahead. 

Scott nodded in agreement, readying to stand up. “We might as well attempt our escape from here but, don’t you think?”

“I thought you’d never ask.” Jackson said cockily, with a smirk on his face and a glint in his eyes that Scott knew meant no good.

Before he could say anything more Jackson jumped up and pushed Scott out of the bush and straight into the line of sight for Sheriff Stilinski. 

“Arsehole!” Scott grunted landing on the footpath rolling of his back and onto his stomach.

Jackson himself scurried out the opposite way and jumped the fence running out of sight.

Scott glanced up already feeling the heat from the Sheriffs gaze from across the street.

“Scott?” The Sheriff drawled.

“Ahhh-” He mumbled back un-intelligently pulling himself up and brushing the dirt of his shorts, trying to not look the man in the eye.

“Come here.” The Sheriff spoke with authority.

Scott swallowed nervously but didn’t move. The Sheriff stayed silent but arched a questionable brow towards the teen. Scott knowing he couldn’t get out of this one nodded resigned to his fate and forced himself forward.

“Let me guess, out for a quick jog? Coincidence?” The Sheriff asked obviously knowing better.

“Ah-yes!” Scott squeaked back un-intelligently.

Stiles was the mastermind behind all their ‘extracurricular activities’. The Sheriff obviously knew that too because Scott was a terrible liar…

“Right…” The man shot back. “Today’s your lucky day son, I don’t have the time to deal with yours and my sons shenanigans right now.” He glanced towards the direction Jackson went. “But we will be discussing this later. With your mother. And a list of punishments.”

The Sheriff looked pissed and Scott wasn’t about to poke a lion so nodded politely. “Yes, Sir.”

Scott looked down at the ground and shuffled awkwardly at the man’s stare.

“Scott?”

Scott shot his head up.

“Go.” The Sheriff finished before walking away.

And go Scott did.

 

 

By the time he found Jackson, the other boy was already onto something. They were out in the preserve now, not too far from the park but far enough the sniffer dogs couldn’t detect them.

“Shut up!” Jackson growled before Scott could bitch at him.

Jackson stuck his nose in the air. “Can you smell that?” He asked.

Scott paused and breathed in trying to get a scent on whatever Jackson was grumbling about. It took him a second but then a breeze blew by and he caught it. It smelt like static, if that was even something you could smell. Kind of like a sharp buzz. It reminded him of the time Deaton had been mixing up some kind of goblin repellent and chanted some old words over the bowl before it was done. It was the same residual smell and he recognised it now as magic.

“Magic?” Jackson questioned.

“Yeah.” Scott replied trying to gage where it was coming from. “It’s mixed with something else….maybe the boy’s scent?”

“I think it’s this way.” The other declared before walking off in the direction, leading them further away from the park. 

They stopped and paused smelling the air again a few more times and changing their direction slightly. 

“We should wait for the others.” Scott said, feeling unsure.

“What and let these fuckers get away again?” Jackson bit back at him. “ They’ve managed to get by us every time and there is no way you can say the scent will still be this fresh by the time the other’s get here.” He paused his rant to take another sniff and then continued walking. “Come on McCall stop being a pussy and help me save this stupid kid.”

Scott sighed still not sure if this was the right decision but he knew Jackson was right. This might be the only chance they get at tracking down and finding the kids. So with much reluctance he followed behind the other wolf, keeping his eyes and ears on alert while the other focused on tracking. 

“Did you have to get me in the shit?” Scott grumbled after another 10 minutes went by similarly. It was a slow process. 

 

“You deserved it.” Jackson shot back without a single fuck given. 

“What! Why?” Scott whined, offended. 

The other boy paused and turned to Scott with a face that screamed –I don’t give a shit- yet also – are we really doing this right now-. It was impressive how easily the guy could express his level of anger through looks alone.

“Is this about the bush? Because man, you know I saved us both.” Scott questioned annoyed.

Jackson just gave him a glare and looked at Scott’s head. “Saved?” The boy scoffed. “We might have not got caught from a cruiser but the bush beat you, that’s for sure.” And with another eye role he turned around and continued walking.

Scott frowned running his hand over his face and hair. Five leaves later and a small twig he realised a little mortified that the Sheriff had seen him like this and never said anything. He had waved at Mrs Robinson who was out walking her dog as well on his way to catch up with Jackson.

“Come on man?” He whined again.

“How’s Stiles?” Asked Jackson without pausing and completely from left field.

“What?” Scott asked confused, catching himself before he tripped on a tree root.

Jackson kept moving using his nose as a compass and didn’t bother answering. 

“He’s fine, why?” Scott relented when he realised the other boy wasn’t going to elaborate.

He really couldn’t be bothered listening to Jackson gripe on about his best friend just to piss him off. If that was the plan Jackson could shove it. 

“Is he?” Jackson questioned, still facing forward, manoeuvring himself between trees.

Scott frowned at the other boys back, unsure with where this conversation was going.

“Look man. I think I know my own best friend better than y-“

“Do you though?” Jackson snarled turning around and pushing the other against the nearest tree. It was hard enough that Scott let out a grunt.

Scott could smell the anger coming off the other and his own was rising as well. He could also faintly smell blood which he was sure was his own. His back scratched awkwardly against the tree.

“Back off!” He growled pushing the other wolf off him.

Jackson did but gave him a frown in return. “Whatever McCall.” He shrugged. “Even I noticed Stilinski’s been off lately, get your shit together and sort it out. His depressing smell’s pissing me off!” He complained yet managed to feign indifference.

Scott had no idea what he was on about. Stiles was fine. He hasn’t said anything to Scott about being upset or whatever and Stiles knows he’s there if he needs him. He doesn’t remember smelling whatever it is Jackson’s on about on his best friend, not that he can recall anyway.

“He’s fine.” Scott stood firm. 

Jackson just rolled his eyes again. “When was the last time you even hung out with him to know if he’s fine?”

Scott went to bite back but found himself stopping short. When was the last time he had hung out with Stiles? He knew he’d been spending a lot of time with Allison lately but he knows Stiles is cool with it. Knows how he feels about her and stuff. Allison’s his girlfriend it’s normal to spend most his time with her. Isn’t it?

Scott felt a little guilt creep in the more he dwelled on it. The last time Stiles had asked to hang out was a few weeks ago and he had blown him off for a date with Allison without even thinking about it. 

“Exactly.” Jackson snapped. 

“You don’t care about Stiles. How would you even know?!” Scott jumped in feeling more than a little defensive about the accusations being made. Scott wasn’t a bad friend.

Jackson scoffed. “How do I know?” He laughed. “How do I not know? The idiot can’t even give me a real bite back when we’re fighting. He talks a lot of shit but most the time it’s so forced I can’t even pretend to be angry. It’s fucking boring! And I’m sick of thinking about it. So you deal with it.” He chewed out before shoving his hands in his pockets and storming off.

Scott was stunned. He felt the guilt really start to kick in now. That was the closest show of concern you could ever get from Jackson and it wouldn’t have come easy. Was Jackson telling the truth? Was he really a bad friend? 

“Fuck!” Came the yell from in front of him, snapping him out of his thoughts.

Then all off a sudden Jackson was flying across the clearing, his body smashed into a tree and tumbled down into a bush bellow.

Scott ran forward wolfed out and alert looking for the perpetrator. He glanced around and there they were. A man and woman stood in a clearing a few feet away both looking ready to slice him apart. 

“Fucking bushes! Fuck them all!” He heard Jackson growl and glanced over quickly to see the grumpy wolf getting up, looking ready to set the world on fire.

Scott watched the pair and they watched them. No body moved for a moment, a clear silence filling the space. 

“You fucking serious? You know that was my favourite fucking shirt arseholes!!!” Jackson all but yelled, walking up behind him and ripping the shirt the rest of the way of his body.

What a drama queen.

The lady tsk’d and without a second more the fighting began.

It wasn’t long before they were both left ragged, dodging spells, being thrown into trees and bushes- much to Jackson’s dismay-. The man was old and slow, not as quick as the woman. Jackson managed to get a claw into his leg and Scott got his arm. The only reason he was still standing was because the woman, who for some reason Scott couldn’t look directly at was wicked fast and blatantly powerful. The air was filled with the scent of magic and the sounds of a struggle. The woman seemed distracted though and it was a few more minutes in before they found out why.

Scott was thrown into Jackson and they both tumbled into a small ditch. When the teens went to stand Scott caught sight of a tussle of brown hair poking out from behind a rock. He knew it was the kid immediately from the smell off distress and fear rolling off him in waves. Jackson caught sight of him too and all but pushed Scott in his direction. 

Jackson let out a savage rawr and dived back into the fray. Scott got two feet from the kid, the boy looked up at him with big brown wet eyes and then the world shook. It sounded like thunder but the sky was clear and yet the earth rattled and creaked bellow him. Then in the next second he felt a searing pain in his abdomen and he was flung backwards. He’s not sure how much time passed but when he came too dirt and debris covered his entire body. He could feel himself starting to suffocate, the weight of the earth pressing down on him. He started to dig desperately with the strength he had left, dirt scratching at his eyes and clogging his mouth. He finally broke the surface gasping for air and scrambled out of his near grave, heaving in breaths as he did. 

The surrounding area was a mess. Tree’s up rooted, branches and leaves everywhere. It looked like a mini hurricane came through. He stayed alert and took in his surroundings, listening out for anything and everything. He could smell Jackson but he couldn’t see him so he followed his nose and then finally picked up the other boys heartbeat. He kept his ears out for threats but couldn’t hear anyone. He hadn’t seen the boy either, his scent was gone as were the others. Almost as if they hadn’t been there at all. If it wasn’t for the mess and residual smell of magic he could have convinced himself it was a dream.

 

Jackson was hurting, he was hurting bad. The old Dick thought it’d be funny to send butterflies to attack him. Fucking butterflies. What a joke. The other lady ran off towards Scott with a ‘deal with them’ and before he could do shit about it those dumb butterflies sliced up his skin, with razer wings. FUCKING razer WINGS! What the actual fuck?!

He fought threw it. Let it be known Jackson Wittemore was not going down from death by butterflies. Hell no! And then next minute the ground exploded. It was a little more descriptive then that but Jackson didn’t give a crap right now as he lie squashed, probably dying , under a huge tree and 250 pounds of soil and rocks. He groaned struggling under the weight, the tree a small barrier giving him some room so he’d yet to suffocate to death. He could feel the deep cuts all over his body still weeping and the more he moved the more the dirt ground into them causing him to grunt in pain. He could feel the blood loss. The energy was draining out of his body and he was struggling to keep himself conscious. He was seriously not going to die from fucking butterflies…

Then thank the baby Jesus, Scott used his dam nose and snuffed him out. Jackson could hear a heartbeat and at first panicked wondering if the evil druid had come to finish the job. He was relieved when the dirt started too move and he saw that stupid un-even jaw line block his only source of light and fresh air. He didn’t have it in him to make a snide comment about it and used all the strength he had left to help Scott – who mustn’t have been at his best either- to move the stupid tree. 

Once the tree was gone most of the dirt went with it and Scott let out a sigh of relief. Jackson lay limp though, his breathing ragged and eyes unfocused. 

“Jackson, you with me?” Scott asked concern, getting his arms under the other boy and hauling him up. 

“Fuckin’… stup’d tree.” He slurred back, head lolling to the side and coming to a rest on Scott’s shoulder.

Scott used to Jackson’s love of profanity ignored the context and took note of how the other boy said it. He’d be stupid to think this wasn’t serious. He lay the boy down quickly on the flattest bit of ground he could find. The wolf’s blood kept flowing and Scott tried his best to staunch it with his shirt and even quickly shredded most of his shorts. 

“Shit shit shit!” he mumbled, taking a page out of Jackson’s book.

He kept his ear out knowing the coast wasn’t clear and berated himself for not getting in contact with anyone earlier. He was stupid. They were both stupid. The only reason either was alive right now was because they wanted to escape with that little boy more than anything else. He should have called Derek. Sent a text. It didn’t matter. His heart was beating wildly as he panicked. 

“Come on Jack’s, stay with me!” He mumbled shaking the other boys shoulder a little.

Jackson opened his eyes blearily, not giving much more of a response.

“Don’t you dare die on me Man! We still have years’ worth of you giving me shit whilst I smash you out on the field.” Scott rushed, swallowing tensely, tears welling in his eyes.

“pf’t y-ou wish” Jackson slurred again, managing to open his eyes for a little longer this time.

His bleeding had slowed down but his healing was still nowhere near fast enough to help at this point. 

Scott lent most his weight on the other, pressing the material into his skin wherever he could. He let go of Jacksons arm but kept his weight everywhere else and fished out his phone from his pocket. He pulled it out and the screen was smashed but thanked the god’s it wasn’t completely broken. Ignoring the glass stabbing into his fingers and the blood covering his arm he dialled Derek’s number. He kept an eye on the teen underneath him. 

17 was too young to die. 

And it was like as soon as he thought it Jackson’s heart thought it’d take one last defiant act towards the other teen, in true Jackson fashion and dropped to just a small patter. Scott’s heart fell into his stomach and he let out what could only be a noise of true despair. He felt the pack bond weaken and it was soul crushing.

The phone finally stopped ringing.

 

“Scott?” Came his Alpha’s disgruntled voice.

Scott was so distraught lying over his dying pack mate, drenched in the other’s blood that he hadn’t realised he’d only mentioned one druid. It was in the small second of silence after his Alpha finished speaking when he couldn’t hear or feel Jackson’s heartbeat, in that moment true dread filled him. 

There were still two hearts beating in that clearing…and only one was his.

 

 

Stiles bounced his knee nervously. He had listened in on his dad’s police scanner at home and decided to take the long way to his current destination. He really didn’t want his dad to pull him up and ask any questions- or any of the other police cruisers spotting him and ratting him out. So he drove the extra 10 minutes and only had to duck his head once when a cop car came past. He managed to smash his knee into the gear stick in the process- so that was fun. Really it was stupid considering every single person who worked at that station would recognise his car and hiding yourself was more suspicious then anything. Who’s driving? A ghost? He shook his head at his own idiocy and rubbed at his now sore- soon to be bruised- jean clad knee.

He was anxious and really he had every right to be. He was following a weak lead, the only one that his crazy mind could find and would let him think about. Which all started from a god dam scent he got a whiff of earlier. He was still avidly ignoring the fact he ‘spoke’ to a dead woman. If he was right and it turned out good, he would save some kids and if it was great -kill a crazy druid. If he was right and it turned out bad, he would die. Really bad, he’d die for nothing. And if he was just plain wrong, well… he may book himself straight into Eichen House, cause bitches be ‘cray’ and he ‘cray’ as fuck.

The sun was starting to go down and he would be lying if he said he wasn’t reconsidering going it alone. He knew that Dylan was likely on his death bed if not already past and the other wouldn’t be far behind. So really how could he. He spent the rest of the drive talking himself up. You can do this. You got this. You. Are. Batman. 

The suburbs thinned out so it was now just sporadic houses placed amongst the trees. It wasn’t long before he glanced the last house around the bend and the building came into sight. He parked the car just off the bend in the road, hidden by the old forest. The last thing he needed was to alert anyone –specifically evil druids- of his where about. Surprise was his best offence, considering a bat was his only defence. He let out a shaky breath before steeling his nerves and getting out of the car. He grabbed his bat, glancing at the ruins Deaton had scratched into it a while back and prayed they still worked. He’d gone to the man asking for some form of help considering everyone else had an advantage and the man had offered a few spells. Stiles wasn’t magical and couldn’t activate the ruins himself so Deaton had made the bat able to absorbed low level magic and in doing so that would fuel it. So his bat could now pack a punch 10 times the power of what it did before. He got to send a goblin flying once, it was hilarious. He still remembers the shocked look on Derek’s face as the man had gone to jump in and protect him. He just looked back smugly. The Pack had stopped questioning Stiles bringing the bat a long time ago. It had come in handy a few times and now he knew they would stop internally questioning it as well.

He also rummaged through his glove box and grabbed a lighter, pocket knife and small torch. He liked to have things at hand just in case. He shoved them in his pocket along with his phone. He laughed quietly to himself and reached under his seat remembering the gift he was going to give Scott for his birthday in a few weeks. He pulled it out and the shiny silver dog whistle hung loosely on a thin red ribbon. It would have been hilarious, but all things considered -he placed the ribbon around his neck and tucked the whistle under his shirt. Just in case. He then headed towards the abandoned building. It was eerie, really really eerie. The trees cast shadows all around him and the only noise he could hear was the sounds of his own shoes on the forest floor and the steady thrum of his heart beating in his chest. He decided to stick to the tree line, in hope of some cover and made his way around the side of the building. 

It had only been out of business a few years now but the local flora and fauna had decided to make this place home. If he didn’t know any better he would have assumed it abandoned many years longer. Vines wrapped around the faded yellow gate out the front. They crawled up the cracked grey walls and across the red tiled roof. The glass windows were dirtier then the ground, grime and spray paint covered all corners. There was smashed glass everywhere and empty beer bottles and cigarette buds littered the floor. The front door was faded and nailed shut, but someone had kicked a whole through the bottom half of the water damaged wood. Stiles looked in from behind the fence and decided he would look for another, less obvious form of entry.

He walked around the back, happy to have the shelter from the trees and eyed the building carefully. The fence that use to wrap around the playground was only still standing in a few places. Random bits of broken pipe and other parts thrown across the area, even extending into the tree line. He could see a make shift bonfire made from an old metal drum rusting away next to the fireman’s pole. The playground looked straight out of a horror movie. In fact this whole scene was cliché as hell. It was in no better condition than the rest of the place but someone had strung up creepy kids toys and hung them off the monkey bars. That was some serious Blair Witch Project shit right there. They’d also taken fire to the underside of the slide, the melted red plastic looked bubbled and morphed, adding to the creepy atmosphere nicely. Behind the playground he could see the back door slightly ajar and a little too inviting if you asked him.

He wasn’t going to go in that way either. Nope, sorry. No. He snuck further around, keeping to the shadows trying to find a window or something he could climb into. He was aware that the sun was almost gone now and he really didn’t want to be doing this in the dark. He got to the opposite side of the building from where he started and noted a window that wasn’t boarded shut. He got closer to inspect it and stopped to listen. He couldn’t hear anyone inside and had yet to hear anything besides himself. He really wished for supernatural senses in situations like this. 

Stiles sighed. The window was at an awkward height, he suspects that it may lead to a toilet. The windows always seemed to be placed that little bit higher. No one wants to have to deal with peepers at their most vulnerable. It was a little small but he might be able to fit. They probably didn’t bother with covering it consider most people wouldn’t go to the effort when the other entrances were so accessible. Stiles wasn’t about to blow himself up with a trip wire – if that was even true- or walk right into some weird druid voodoo trap. No sir. He’s watched way too many horror stories to be ‘that’ guy.

He reached up and tried to get the window to budge. It protested loudly but after a final shove and the sound of 32 cats dying was released, it opened. He paused, his heart sky rocketing at the loud affair of it all. He couldn’t hear a thing though and after a few more minutes of talking himself up he peeked through the window on his tip toes to see he was right and there was a toilet on the other side. The little amount of light that shone in, showed the toilet door was closed and he was thank full. Baby steps.

He ummed and ahh’d for a few seconds trying to decide how he was going to get up. Stiles wasn’t weak per-say but this was at a real awkward height and getting himself into that initial pull up would be hard. He glanced down at the bat he’d leaned against the wall and decided that’d be a good as step as any. He moved it more directly under the window and wedged the bat between the dirt and brick wall. The hilt dug in nicely to a nook in the brick work and he gave it a light kick to test its sturdiness. Once he decided it was good to go he lifted his leg and placed his foot on the top end, pushing himself up and quickly taking the weight onto his arms. He somehow – really awkwardly- managed to get himself through the window frame without breaking anything and only nearly losing circulation to his leg for a few minutes. 

When he got to the other side though he realised he had one problem. His bat was still out there.

Idiot.

Stiles glanced out the window and wondered how far his reach was. He figured it was worth a try and lent his body back out the small window. He managed to reach his bat just fine but it was stuck nice and tight. After a few more minutes of struggling he decided to get this over with and come back to his old friend later. He pulled himself back in, already exhausted and a little light headed from hanging upside down for too long and sat on the closed seat. He chose for his own sake, to ignore the smell and not open the lid. He sighed and pulled out his pocket knife, flicking the knife out and holding it at his side. He also pulled out his torch in anticipation before slowly and cautiously opening the door to the rest of the building. He was thankful to whoever looked after the doors in this place because it didn’t make a sound. He cast his gaze in front, letting the torch light his way. His hands were shaking and his nerves were fried but he ignored them, getting his head into the now. 

He steeled himself for a second time and stepped out into the hall in front of him. Stiles decided to make this quick and quiet, knowing full well if he was lucky and no one was home he wanted to be in and out before anyone knew any better. He walked down the hall, the carpet littered with mess and walls in no better condition than the rest of the building. He stopped by two empty rooms and found nothing, but he was starting to feel more confident in his search and made his way through the building with ease. He continued his way through the old reception, into a back office and past the vomit inducing kitchen- with only a few dry reaches. Yep, not thinking about it. He continued similarly through a few more rooms. Some filled with random signs of a once lived in space but nothing worth noting. 

He was starting to resign himself to the fact he may have been wrong and this was all a waste of time when he noticed an old wooden cupboard awkwardly out of place against the wall. It was a little to clean considering everything else and the floor around it had been disturbed. Quite recently if the next to no dust was any indication. 

Stiles approached it cautiously and examined the area. He noted the way it must have been moved by looking at the disturbed surroundings and decided to see what the fuss was about. He slowly dragged the cupboard forward, trying not to make too much noise and thankful it wasn’t too heavy. He took one peak around the back and noticed a door.

“Ah crap!” He whispered to himself, cursing the deity who brought this upon him.

It jogged his memory a little and he remembered one of the ladies at the day-care telling him off for nosing around. He had stumbled on what he now knows is the basement, before he was caught and made to sit in a corner. Stiles swallowed dryly.

Yeah, he was totally going to have to be that guy…

Stiles wasn’t stupid and sent a quick text to Lydia, shoving the torch into his mouth awkwardly so he could type.

‘About 2 go down into a basement in the search for kidos. Classic horror movie vibe. Dont let my corpse rot.’ 

He quickly added the address as well before hitting send and shoving his phone back into his pocket. Even if the girl was distraught he knows she’d be the one most likely with her phone on hand and wouldn’t leave him to die no matter how much she joked about it.

Stiles decided to not linger on it and just pushed the door open. He stood back tense waiting for something to jump out at him but nothing did. After another second past he gathered himself and walked in. The room was dark, and he couldn’t see much but the stairs in front of him. An over whelming smell of gasoline assaulted his senses and he hastily pulled up his t-shirt over his nose in an attempt to lesson it. He looked around for a light switch and was happy to find one but off course it didn’t work. He slowly made his way down the stairs, glad they were still in good condition and shone his torch around. There was an old shelf in one corner, filled with all sorts of chemicals which he wished someone had used to clean this place. The walls were covered in grime and other things he didn’t want to deliberate long on. His heart stopped when it landed on a mop of messy blonde hair and a small boy underneath it in the other corner of the room.

It was Joel. 

The boy had a gag around his mouth and his hands and legs were bound. He was filthy from head to toe, curled in on himself in the corner and let out a whimper when the light cast on him again. Stiles heart broke for the kid and he didn’t pause in rushing over. It wasn’t his smartest idea though because before he knew it a hand was on his shoulder and a body half enclosed his own. He waited for the violence to start, his heart in his throat. Yet it didn’t. Stiles looked behind him perplexed and no one was there. But he could feel it. He could feel it like it was as real as the sun and the moon, but he couldn’t see a thing. He wanted to be scared, but for some reason he felt safe. He felt protected. And that was un-nerving in itself. The little boy’s whimpers brought him back to the presence and he took another step forward. This time he was thrown back, a huge pain burst through his body like a million bees stinging him from the inside out. His head smacked hard into the back wall causing him to black out for a moment. He felt the pain start to drain from him and then the presence on his back was gone him. He sat slumped against the wall panting for air and fighting the sudden nausea. His head was pounding and he could feel a warm liquid seep down his neck. He could feel himself starting to lose consciousness.

‘You have to wake up now Stiles.’ Whispered an all too familiar voice.

Laura.

Stiles eyes shot open but he could only see Joel’s little bare feet lit up by his dropped torch. 

‘Move.’ Came her quiet voice again.

It was like a whisper in his right ear. The teasing feeling of a real breath tickled his ear lobe as if she was right there beside him. He whipped his head around to squint into the blackness and hissed in pain at the motion. He let out a small wine. His body felt ruined. His skin felt as if a million needles had pierced him. Joel let out another whimper and Stiles knew he couldn’t let this be it. He ignored the dizziness and everything else for the child in front of him. 

He managed to pull himself up to his hands and knees, grunting as he did so and moving forward. He felt the presence again, this time without fear. He let himself feel it and in a way he can’t explain, he just knew. He knew it was her. It was Laura. She was like a buzz underneath his skin. Not uncomfortable but just different. It was all over his body now and he felt his arm tug forward and followed its motion. He felt the hot burn again when he reached the point he did before. It was different now. Almost muffled, so he kept moving. He picked up his torch and like an elastic band snapping, the burning was gone and the buzzing under his skin simmered. 

He scurried towards the boy.

“Hey, sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you-“He rambled sitting back on his haunches to regard the kid. “You’re Joel right? I’m Stiles. Stiles Stilinski. I’m here to get you out of here.” He continued going straight for the gag on the boy’s mouth and then cotton ties on his feet.

The kid was shaking pretty hard and flinched when he initially inched forward. Stiles kept rambling though and moved onto the boy’s hands once he managed to get his legs free.

“Your parent’s are real worried about you, you know? They said your real brave but. You look really brave to me as well. I mean you’d have to be, look at you. Not even crying. I’d be crying.” Stiles ignored the blatant sniffle and the little boy looked up at him with emotional sky blue eyes. 

Stile could smell the urine and faeces over the stanching smell off gasoline but completely ignored it for the task at hand. If he could ignore his crazy, this was nothing. He could feel the disbelief and anger well up inside him though. He couldn’t believe someone could be so cruel. He struggled with the last knot tying the kids’ hands and cursed aloud wondering where his pocket knife had gone. The little boy stayed pliant and lenient as he worked. Stiles decided after much effort to get his teeth in on the action and the knot finally broke free. There was only a moment of silence and then he was being pushed back again, but this time it was from the weight of a little boy clutching at him helplessly. Stiles reached around and embraced the kid, whose tears ran freely. He rocked him a few times mutter reassurances. He felt a little bad knowing his attention was split elsewhere. He knew now he’d found the right place, it wasn’t long before someone would came back. So the question was, where was the other boy?  
Stiles hushed the smaller body in his arms. Glancing around the dark room.

“Joel.” He started trying to get the boys attention. “Joel I need to get us out of here okay? We need to leave before the bad people come back. Do you understand?” He asked quietly but urgently.

Joel seemed to sober at the mention of the druids and Stiles wondered how much he knew about their plans. He looked up at Stiles and nodded slowly, his body still shaky and breaths still ragged. Stiles ignored the pain from his own body that spiked whenever Joel moved.

“Now first thing’s first. I need you to be brave okay. Can you do that for me? I promise I won’t leave you alone.” Stiles asked soothingly.

The little boy took another shaky breath and let it out slowly. “Y-yeah.” 

His voice was horse and rough and Stiles knew it would have been from screaming… He couldn’t help but throw his head back and glare at the ceiling. This poor kid. The emotions un-settling him were not helping him think, so he tried to push them aside.

“That’s good. Now Joel do you know where Dylan is? He’s the other boy that went missing before you.” Stiles questioned dreading the response.

He wasn’t sure if the other boy would be alive or not. Joel nodded and pointed behind Stiles towards the stair case. Stiles turned around moving Joel of his lap and onto the floor again. The little boy held on to the back of Stiles shirt, both standing up and heading in the direction he’d pointed. Stiles shone his torch forward but there was a table with old files and other random things obscuring his view. He quickly realised one of said items was a lantern and turned it on.

He raised a hand and shielded his eyes as they tried to adjust to the new lighting. The darkness in the room retreated to mere shadows on the walls. Being able to see gave him some form of fake security and he relaxed his muscles a little. He saw all the runes and symbols scratched and painted into the walls now. There was a big one right where he had been thrown before and noticed his pocket knife sticking into one of the thinner lines circling round. When did that happen?  
He got a good look at himself and Joel, both covered in questionable substances. His skin felt slick with dirt and oil and he guesses that was half the substance on the floor and sprayed up the walls. Joel looked back up at him in wonder, like he was the boy’s life raft and they were adrift at sea. Stiles gave him a week smile, not knowing how to take such responsibility and only hoped he could get them out alive. He turned his head back to the stair case and rounded the table to look underneath, Joel still clinging to his shirt behind him.

There he was, half in the shadows.

Dylan was lying limp on the floor. Stiles approached him slowly, more weary this time. Nothing seemed to happen though and he made up the distance between them quickly. The first thing he did was look for a pulse. The boys’ skin was cold and clammy but Stiles tried not to think about it. He concentrated hard and let out a breath of air he hadn’t realised he was holding when he felt a faint heartbeat. It wasn’t good, he knew that. But the boy was alive and that was more than he expected.

“Dylan?” He asked calmly, getting his hands around the boy’s body to drag him out.

The boy didn’t say anything and stayed compliant in his arms. His head hung loosely and Stiles quickly got his hand under it for support and laid the boy flat on his back. He leaned over Dylan, now in the light and could see how sickly pale he was. His skin was bruised and cut. The small wounds looked infected and Stiles knew he wouldn’t last much longer. They hadn’t even bothered to tie him up. Stiles could see the red marks along his skin showing he had once been though and wondered how long he’d been in this state. The fear in his stomach came back and his hands rested shakily on the figure bellow him.

“Dylan, buddy. Can you hear me? I’m here to help okay.” He spoke in the same soothing tone he had just done with Joel, lifting the boy’s face trying to get a reaction.

He still got no response and could feel the tears start to prick at his eyes, dread filling his gut. He pulled the boys head into his lap and ran his fingers through his hair soothingly, like he remembers his mum doing for him as a child. His black locks were uneven lengths and he had chunks of hair missing, like someone had decided to take to them with a hack saw. Stiles felt pure loathing at the sick creatures who did this and wished with every fibre of his being that the Pack had managed to strike them dead. 

Stiles kept up his ministrations with one hand and reached for his phone with the other. Dylan needed a hospital immediately. He awkwardly yanked it out of his pocket and nearly started crying then and there when he found it dead. It had been fully charged when he walked into the room but now, no matter what he tried the electronic device would not come to life.

Shit.

His brain went on over drive now, darting around the room and trying to think of his options. There wasn’t really many. He couldn’t leave either boy here. He needed to get them to his car and he needed to do it now.

“Okay.” Stiles said determined.

He looked over at Joel, who was watching over his shoulder frightened. 

“Joel, I’m going to need your help.” He said staring the young boy in the eyes, trying to express the urgency of the situation.

The little kid was scared but he didn’t protest as Stiles continued talking. 

“I need you to help me get Dylan on my back.” He said gesturing to the boy still limp in his lap. “I’m going to get us out of here okay. But Dylan, he’s sick, and I need you to be brave. Can you keep being brave for me?” He asked and prayed the young boy could hold it together.

Joel’s face turned from scared to determined and he nodded his head quickly. He let go of Stiles shirt and moved slowly around him. Stiles smiled at him grateful and gave his shoulder a light squeeze in gratitude. 

“Alright, let’s do this.”

It was artless. Dylan was at that awkward lanky age where he was just starting to put meat on his bones and Stiles tried his best to manoeuvre him with Joel’s help. It took longer then he’d like but he was thankful for Joel’s assistance. He all but man handled the younger boy onto his back, not having time to do it with any form of grace. He was kind of glad the kid wasn’t with it otherwise it probably would have hurt. Stiles grunted at the dead weight on his back and his sore muscles reminded him of his own injuries. He ignored them all and with one final pull and jump he had the other boy securely on his body. Joel’s little hand’s pushing Dylan’s bum up from behind.

Stiles panted a little at the exertion but pushed himself to stand. Dylan’s head lolled listless on his shoulder but Stiles could feel the little bit of air on his neck every time the boy let out a weak exhale. It was the only reassurance the kid was still alive and it helped keep him grounded in his resolve to get them out. He glanced around the room quickly and noticed a name on one of the folders near the lantern on the table. He scrunched his brow confused, Joel’s name scrawled across the old paper. He realised quickly from the logo on top that it was his old profile the day-care must have kept for each child. Stiles stepped forward and pushed the stack off the desk watching each folder with another kid’s name on it spill onto the ground in a flurry. Underneath all the paper work was a symbol scratched into the table, similar to the ones he’d seen in the preserve. Locator spells? He questioned to himself. 

He turned his eyes to the other boxes scattered around the room and realised they most likely held more information on the rest of the kids that had attended the old facility. Not only was it terrible the business didn’t get rid of them but he was reluctant to leave with all of the information still available for the druids if they managed to get back. Feeling un-easy, he glanced back up at the chemicals on the shelf near the bottom of the stairs and had an idea.

“Joel, I’m going to need your help again.” 

Stiles wasn’t one to teach children that playing with fire was okay but he feels like this situation would be an okay exception. Joel listened to him carefully and followed all his orders step by step. Stiles could smell the fumes already in the room but figured this was just to be safe. The boy took the few bottles of the bottom shelf, bare feet still shuffling around and Stiles taught him how to open child proof bottles after he struggled himself with Dylan on his back. Joel poured the chemical all over the stacks of paper like Stiles asked and followed Stiles up the stairs, letting the liquid splosh onto the ground behind them. Once they got to the top Stiles quickly ushered Joel out of the way of the entrance. He peeked out from behind the cupboard and couldn’t hear anything so attempted to light the paper in his hand.

He was struggling with Dylan on his back and his hands trying to support him as well. Without a word Joel took the rolled paper from Stiles left hand and held it towards him, lighter already in Stiles other. Stiles paused and looked at the young kid in front of him. He didn’t look scared anymore, he looked purposeful and unwavering in his resolve. Stiles gave him a silent nod and set the end of the paper on fire. Joel quickly dropped it on the last step and Stiles pushed him out the way as the fire flared to life and started following the trail down the stair case. 

 

Knowing there was some serious flammables inside Stiles rushed them towards the back door as fast as his legs could take him. He pulled Joel a long with him, the boy’s hand slippery in his own and his other arm secured Dylan’s legs. They hit the tree line and Stiles all but threw himself and both boys to the ground. He managed to pin Joel to the base off a big tree, both hitting it a little hard. Dylan tumbled of his back but Stiles hauled him underneath him just in time.

The explosion was huge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was really hard trying to decide where to stop this chapter.  
> There is so much more about to happen and I wanted to just keep writing!
> 
> What did you guys think of Jackson?  
> And Scott got a little reality hit.  
> So much crazyness hehe.


	8. Rise Against

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More trouble in paradise.
> 
> Holy Jeebus!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry everyone for the late update, I haven't had a chance to proof read this so I apologize but hope you enjoy it all the same and there aren't too many boo boo's. :)
> 
> It's a big one!

Scott was thrown across the clearing. His body bending and snapping branches with the momentum. He landed hard. His head throbbing and ribs protesting painfully. The old man stood meters from him, leering above Jackson’s lifeless body. Scott wanted to be sick.

He could feel it. The moment Jackson’s heart officially stopped beating. He could feel the tether in his chest tear as his last breath was exhaled. 

It hurt.

It hurt so much.

More than the time he broke his ankle and cracked his ribs jumping out of a tree one summer playing Tarzan with Stiles.

More than the time he watched his dad hit his mum for the first time.

More than the time his dad hit him for the first time.

More than watching his mum cry as his dad walked away after yelling and screaming about how terrible a mother she was. How she was useless. 

How he was useless… 

They all hurt, but this was a different kind of pain.

It was like someone killed his brother.

Which they did.

Jackson was Pack.

Pack was family.

Family looked after each other.

No matter what.

No matter how much it hurt or they annoyed each other.

That was Pack.

Scott could still hear the innocent childish laughter both boys had shared years ago when times were simpler. When finding a roll up in your lunch box was the best part of the day and deciding what snacks and marbles were worth trading was the only struggle he had to face.

Before they could understand societies drawn lines in the sand. Things like popularity and where you came from weren’t relevant.

When the summers felt like years and catching bugs in jars was something to brag about. 

When they’d yet to realise the world was more than just play time and school days.

Nothing was more important than having fun and making friends.

He can’t remember when it all changed.

Shared laughter and childish smiles turned to snide comments and bruised lips. 

When the shoving became angry and frowns held more than just a misunderstanding. 

When their little bubble was burst.

But right here, watching someone he grew up with die… When he could do nothing about it…

Scott thinks back on those days with such a longing he nearly paws at his own chest.

He felt a fire burn deep in his gut. Something new, something different. 

It was more than his usual anger. More than his furious loyalty. More than his endless bounds of determination.

This was twisted.

It was hate. Pure, unaltered hate. 

Seething.

Burning.

Bubbling in his stomach.

It was an accumulation of things he thinks.

All the fighting. Always the fighting. 

The tension between everyone every time something goes wrong.

School.

His mum nearly getting in the fray one too many times. 

The constant near death experiences.

His and Allison’s forever issued relationship.  
The resentment towards his father who think it’s okay to come back now…After everything.

Not that he has mentioned it to anyone.

Especially not Stiles…

Nothing can just be easy. He makes mistakes. He knows he makes mistakes. 

But he’s trying.

That’s got to count for something.  
Scott glared up through the blood trickling down his forehead at the old man looking smug and unpleasant. He had his foot on Jackson’s chest, pressing his body further into the ground.

“One down. One to go!” He cackled manically.

Scott was furious. 

He ignored everything his body told him and got up, eyes never leaving the man before him. The old man watched him amused. Scott didn’t care. He was going to wipe that smile straight of his face. With his fist. Or maybe his claws? He hadn’t decided yet.

Scott wasn’t sure how long werewolves’ hearts could stop beating until they were past resuscitation. He didn’t know and he wasn’t going to waste time to find out.

Three minutes.

Its three minutes for humans before they risk permanent brain damage.

He’s already wasted at least one.

He has two left.

Scott doesn’t know what did it, maybe it was the way he stood up?

The look in his eyes? 

But it happened. 

The man in front of him faltered for a moment as he watched on as Scott got up, determined. His heart beat a little faster and the sharp smell of fear slipped through. It was all that Scott needed.

He didn’t hesitate. Didn’t question himself. He just moved.

He went straight for the druid. The man took a moment to pull himself back together and as he did Scott was already there. He had his claws in the man’s side, just missing his gut as he’d moved at the last second. Scott watched the look of horror cross the monsters face when he realised what had happened. 

“Nobody gets to beat up Jackson but me.” He spat at the man through his mouthful of sharp teeth. 

The druid pulled away from him quickly, grunting in pain. Before Scott could get a hold of him again he was pushed back. This time he didn’t stumble or fall. He stayed on his feet, eyes watching, stalking his prey as the scent of his fresh blood filled the clearing.

“You think any of this matters?” The druid cackled, ignoring his bleeding torso.

Scott didn’t say anything, just watched the man. Calculating his next move.

“This is bigger than you and your little dog pack. You have no idea.”

“I don’t care.” Scott jumped forward and ducked low aiming for the man’s legs.

It was thwarted though as when he reached him, the druid somehow ended up a few meters away. It continued like this for a while longer. Scott nearly reaching him and the other getting out of range at the last second. The man had tried to chant a few times but Scott made sure to keep up his assault so nothing could be finished. He knew as soon as the druid used magic he was in trouble.

He had to try and get to him before his time was up and Jackson was completely lost to them. He wasn’t giving up on his stubborn pack mate just yet. He let the memories of his childhood fuel him. The anger of having it thrown in his face as he was made to watch someone he cared for die. Even if it was someone like Jackson. He got it. He knew why the boy was so twisted. Scott wasn’t stupid. It didn’t make it hurt less when they came to blows but…He got it. He just reminded himself of the little boy who shared his sandwich with him when his dad forced him to go to school with no lunch because he dropped his favourite mug. Or the time Stiles was sick and Jackson picked him as his partner in class so he didn’t feel left out. Even the time in middle school when some jock stole his inhaler and Jackson- begrudgingly- got it back for him and told him to shut his mouth about it. 

The too and fro continued.

It was taking too long. Scott knew it. Three minutes were up a while ago. He tried whole heartedly to believe the boy on the floor still had a chance. He got the man in the same spot as earlier, taking a nice chunk with him. The druid screamed in pain and Scott wanted to cheer but he let his guard down thinking the man was hindered. It only took a second and he was crying out from his own wound. His arm twisting back awkwardly and hanging loose at his side. 

It was pure determination that kept him from passing out.

He managed to drag himself a few meters away, nearly tripping over Jackson’s body as he did so. He glanced down at his lifeless friend. His face lax and childlike. None of his normal emotions present at all. He felt the pain in his chest again. It was a steady thrum, pushing him forward, back to the hunt as the druid started to circle them. 

He could feel it then. The pack.

They were getting closer and he knew. He knew the second they felt it too.

The second they realised something was missing.

Jackson was missing. 

It was like the pain in his chest was radiating out across the connecting lines, spreading to each member.

It was the Pack bond Derek had always spoken about but he had yet to understand.

The distant howls were deafening.

But the loudest howl of all was the howl of his Alpha.

And he was pissed.

*-*

Stiles ears were ringing and his head was throbbing. He could feel a shaking body underneath him. See the crocodile tears running down the blonde boy’s dirty face. But he couldn’t hear anything except the loud ringing trying to pierce through his skull. 

The smell of smoke was strong, trying to invade all his senses, making his eyes water. Stiles pushed himself up and away from their tangle of bodies to investigate the damage. He tried to shake the black spots from his eyes, blinking rapidly and rubbing at his face. There was blackened and scorched glass shards and random debris scattered all around them. The big tree had thankfully protected them from the worst of it. He continued to scan his surroundings, trying to get his bearings back. 

Between the basement fumes, serious head-to-wall blow and now ear bleeding ringing, he’s surprised he’s still walking. He paused in thought and raised a curious brow when he noticed his baseball bat half sticking out the ground to his right, looking perfectly fine and not completely out of place…

The same bat that should have been on the opposite side of the building wedged nicely in a wall. Stiles wasn’t about to question his luck and quickly stumbled a few feet forward to pull it from the earth. It took a few good tugs with his heavy limbs, but the ground relented and his trusty friend was back in his hands. With a small smile of relief Stiles turned towards the old building only to have the smile drop straight off his face. The building was intact. It looked exactly how it had when he arrived earlier, nothing amiss at all. 

But he heard the explosion? He could still smell the smoke and he could even feel the heat radiating towards him in waves…How was that even possible? 

Stiles came to one conclusion quickly…He seriously hates Druids.

Stiles growled to himself angrily. He was hoping the fire would get the authorities attention and keep the druids away if they managed to get past the pack. Fire meant that generally all three emergency services would arrive and an ambulance was high on his necessity list. Now though, it was un-likely. They must have put up some kind of ward, some kind of spell to help protect their location and stop anyone outside getting suspicious. Really though, if anyone came close enough they could see the mess and would raise questions. In fact the smoke surely would end up blowing all over the town and into the preserve. But he guesses if you can’t see it and only can smell it, it would be hard to pinpoint where the smell was coming from. It was smart, but not good for the long term. Probably a prevention measure to give them time to get away depending on what they were preparing for.

It would be hard for people to ignore the sound though, that would have garnered a lot of attention. He could still feel the vibration from the ground clearly in his mind, like the residual energy was vibrating through his limbs. Anyone close enough would have felt it as well and he can already guess his father’s had plenty of noise complaints from nosey civilians really just wanting to know what’s happening. The last house he passed probably shook in its foundations and it was still a decent distance away.

None of that mattered now though. He still had two little boy’s to get far far away from here. 

He walked back towards the boys. Dylan was out cold, awkwardly sprawled on the ground where Stiles had left him. The sick cold feeling returned to Stiles stomach at the sight of the boy and he knew he needed to hurry. He knelt down and double checked Dylan’s pulse. Still weak, but he was alive.

Somehow.

He tried not to feel guilty about throwing the boy roughly mere minutes before. In the grand scheme of things it wasn’t the best idea but he was thinking on his toes and the boy is obviously a tough egg. He turned to Joel who was huddled in on himself against the aged trunk that saved them. His tear streaked face was hard to ignore and Stiles didn’t hesitate in pulling him in for a quick hug.

“Sorry.” He mumbled patting the boys back.

He wasn’t too sure what he was apologising for, scaring him with the explosion? The whole ordeal the boys had to go through? Or just pushing him into the tree roughly earlier? Either way Joel just sniffled into his chest and took the comfort with tight fists in his shirt and a little nod of his head.

Stiles leaned back and gave the boy a forced smile. 

“You’re a brave kid.”

He wanted to reiterate it. Really he was.

Stiles was pretty on edge himself and he was the adult in this situation. Not that he felt ready for that responsibility at all. He was still a teenager himself. He still had a few more years left of overly zealous hormones steering him into making bad decisions. Most likely, knowing him, leading to many more embarrassing and awkward situations. He was good at getting himself into those.

Hopefully it’s something he’ll grow out off.

Probably not.

“S-Stiles...” Joel looked up at him through his wet eye lashes.

“Yeah buddy?” Stiles responded trying to strain his hearing past the diming ringing in his ears.

“My feet hurt.”

Stiles pulled back further and examined the boy. His legs where grimy and filthy, now also covered in dirt. His feet were in a similar situation but he could undoubtedly see what the problem was. The boy’s feet were smeared with the tell-tale off fresh blood.

Shit.

Stiles lifted up one off Joel’s feet and used his sleeve to clean it up a bit, then the other. It was messy and gross and Stiles was glad this was on the level his stomach could handle. His feet were cut up from what he guesses was all the glass surrounding the building. He kicks himself for not thinking of it earlier. Considering everything though there wasn’t much he could have done.

He didn’t think there was glass still in them and tried to think quickly. He wasn’t sure how deep they were but it wouldn’t be comfortable. He eyed his sleeves and then looked back at the boy’s dirty feet.

It’ll have to do.

Stiles used a piece of glass to help him rip up his flannelette shirt. He tore the sleeves into suitable pieces, putting the remaining tatters back on. The kid was a trooper and didn’t cry out once and only flinched a little when Stiles wrapped the cloth around his small feet. He tied the material off at the top in a tight knot. It wouldn’t compare to a real bandage and a pair of shoes but it’d give him some protection from the forest floor. Stiles couldn’t carry both kids after all.

Stiles hauled them both up, letting the kid settle on his new la-Stilinski digs. He could patent and sell it…Or not. From Joel’s grimace and hobbling they weren’t all that. That could be because he has injuries though and not because his home made shoes make him look like a homeless child…

Not that it was relevant. He was getting side tracked. 

“We have to go.” Stiles said more to himself.

He moved towards Dylan and didn’t need to ask Joel as the boy followed his movements and they re-enacted their earlier gymnastic team work. It did occur to Stiles he could bridal style carry the boy. It’d be faster but he was worried his lack of available arm usage would land them in trouble. As much as he only really had one free at any time, the other secured tightly to Dylan’s legs. He didn’t like the idea of not being able to grab the little human trailing next to him if he needed to. 

They got Dylan back on board the Stilinski bus and Stiles hefted him up with a firm grunt for the second time. He fumbled a little longer, using his spare hand to try and get the lanky boys head to rest on his shoulder comfortably and so Stiles could feel his breathing on his neck. He didn’t like the idea of the boy dying on him, let alone dying on him and not even realising until it was too late.

At least it helped squash his anxiety minutely that he had an alarm system of sorts.

The fact it was the kids faint breathing on his neck was alarming in itself but he wasn’t going to fuss.

“You see that bat there Joel?” Stiles nodded towards his old friend leaning against the tree. “You think you can carry it for me?”

Joel left his side to quickly grab it in response. The bat was half his size and a lot heavier then he’d be use too. He didn’t ask questions or complain and just reached his other hand out to Stiles. Stiles didn’t hesitate to thread their hands together and pulled them both in the direction of his car. He kept his eyes and ears out, weaving them among the trees, both keeping as quiet as possible. His bat trailed behind them making clinking noises whenever it hit a rock or something hard, Joel’s arm not being able to take the weight. Stiles didn’t complain about the noise, when he looked down to see Joel’s determined face and white knuckled grip on his metal friend, how could he?

Stiles breathing was getting louder, he didn’t remember the walk to the centre taking this long. He knew it was because he was giving the centre and his original path a wide birth, not wanting to stick to close to the road and get caught when they’re so close to the end. He just hadn’t expected it to add so much time. Or maybe it was just his tired body making the minutes drag on. It was the kind of day he was having after all. They sky had darkened considerably and he was thankful the moon, not quite yet full was lighting their way.

Finally and after a few awkward stumbles that nearly caused a three body pile up, he could see the roof of his jeep poking up through the leaves in the distance. He felt his shoulders sag in relief, the muscles relaxing momentarily. It only lasted a second though, his body nearly dropping the weight on his back. His limbs had been protesting for a while and relaxing was clearly not a good idea. 

He rushed them forward a little too eager when a sharp cry halted him in his tracks. Joel was keeping passé and stumbled back when Stiles grip stopped him from moving forward as well. His bat made an awkward clanking sound as it fumbled in the exchange. Stiles cringed at the noise but didn’t wait for Joel’s questioning looks. He pulled his hand free of Joel’s grip roughly, wrapping it around the boy’s mouth and dragging the boys back into his chest. He could feel the alarm in the boy bellow him who wriggled uncomfortably, pulling at the hand on his mouth. Stiles pulled them both against a tree, Dylan still dead to the world on his back. It didn’t take long for Joel to take in Stiles tense stance and the boy stopped fighting him quickly, becoming tense as well. 

They both stood frozen, the sound of their rabbit heartbeats dancing between them. Stiles felt dread fill his gut as he caught movement in front of them, not far from his beloved vehicle. 

He had to squash the overwhelming desire to chuck a tantrum, pull at his hair and maybe cry a little…

Right when he thought they were on the home stretch. 

The cry sounded again, closer this time. 

“P-p-pleaaseee.” Came a young distraught voice, echoing through the dark.

Stiles swallowed, his mouth suddenly gone dry. He had a good idea whose voice that belonged too.

He slowly squatted himself down, leaning forward slightly as to not rock the weight on his back. It used muscles Stiles didn’t know he had but he ignored it, letting a knee rest on the floor and keeping his attention at hand. Joel crowded backwards further into his space and Stiles let his hand drop slowly from his mouth and moved to pull the boy in by the waist, his hand reaching around and resting on the hilt of his bat still in Joel’s grasp. 

They were squatting behind a sizeable bush, next to the tree against their backs. The tree was rigid and still, like a warrior preparing for battle. He wished the tree could take a page from Lord of the Rings and come to life to squash the bad guys and carry them to safety. It was a comforting yet childish thought.

If only. 

He hoped it would at least help keep them concealed. 

“Quit your whining before I make you!” Hissed an unknown voice followed by a thud.

A small body was pushed to the ground and into Stiles sight through the leaves. 

The boy pulled himself shakily onto his hands and knees only to have a boot knock him down hard electing a whimper. Stiles grip tightened on his bat in anger. 

“Don’t move!” Hissed the voice again.

The voice was gravelly, kind of horse. Not like Joel’s voice from screaming or crying. More like a bad special effect in a cheap movie. Like someone trying to distort their voice and hide their identity whilst listing their demands to the police. 

Joel started shaking and it didn’t take a genius to figure out why. The young boy turned into Stiles shoulder quietly, letting Stiles take the weight of the bat as he fisted his hands into Stiles ripped up shirt-gone-vest. Stiles kept himself still, eyes up front and let the boy take the comfort he needed.

Malcom, the boy on the ground stayed down this time and Stiles tried his best to keep track of the boots walking around him. They stomped heavily, uncaring, clearly not afraid of being heard. He could see slender legs attached to said boots and made the assumptions this was the female Durack. 

Yay...

She paced the area, mumbling things under her breath Stiles couldn’t quite catch. She paused momentarily, her body facing the direction of the day-care facility. Stiles didn’t need to see her to know she was scenting the air. He could just feel it in his bones. The same way he knew things were about to get a heck of a lot harder.

“Someone’s set of my wards,” She whispered to herself. “Someone’s nearby.”

He felt his stomach summersault when her feet stormed towards the direction of his Jeep. He knew as soon as she got past the few trees in the way it would stick out like a sore thumb. 

Stiles cringed and Joel flinched when a mad screech met their ears and the sound of a door was yanked open. 

“Fucking pack Rat!!!” She yelled.

Stiles didn’t know how to feel about the fact she knew his car and she knew he was a part of the Pack. It wouldn’t be hard to deduce then she knew who he was as well. 

She came stomping back in their direction, his body tensing, getting ready for whatever was to come. He felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up as she came to a halt on the other side of their hide out.

Stiles breathing was almost non-existent.

Joel had long since stopped moving, hiding away in Stiles body and Dylan’s small reassuring breaths were the only sound he could hear over his own heartbeat. 

He could see more of her now that she was so close. She was wearing a crumpled brown leather jacket with a blood red scarf, both looking a little torn. Her black jeans had a rip down the side he would have thought scandalous if he didn’t know any better. He recognised a werewolf’s claw work. The tear led down into her brown boots that were splattered in a deep red Stiles could even recognise in the limited light. It was blood. 

And from the looks of it not her own. 

There was a tense stillness all around them. Even the forest was eerily quite, almost waiting, watching to see what was going to happen. She wasn’t looking at them. She was looking over them. And Stiles was never so glad he always won when Scott and he use to compete and see who could hold their breath the longest. All the near blackouts were now made worth it as he forced himself to become one with nature around him. Practically zen-ing the shit out of every hippy wanabee he’s ever met.

She finally turned and headed towards her newly kidnapped child with purpose. 

Stiles let out deep breath and nearly lost his balance in the process. Thank god Joel was standing strong and caught some of his weight before he screwed them all over with his lack of stealth. He wanted to feel relieved but couldn’t as he watched on as the she-druid pulled Malcom up by the scruff of his shirt.

He wanted to fight, he really did. He wanted to beat the shit out of the psychotic bitch in front of him with a powered up baseball bat before she could lay a hand on her new victim.

But he couldn’t.

He couldn’t risk it and get them all killed. 

He was just one human boy. Only a little bigger than the other two human boys he clung onto right now. All he had was a bat, an awesome bat, but a bat none the less. He didn’t have super strength, claws or fangs. He just had his sarcastic wit and sharp mind. And that mind was telling him right now it wouldn’t be logical. It wouldn’t be logical to put them all in danger just to save one other person.

He wonders if this is how soldiers feel when someone gets left behind. He wonders how they deal with the guilt. A guilt so heavy it wants to make him sick.

But survival instincts run hard and strong in most people and he supposes that’s how people do it.

Stiles knows this. No one would fault him for not jumping in.

Stiles also knows his heart likes to play chicken with his brain. 

He knows logically he should cut his losses. Knows it’s the smart thing to do.

But… Stiles heart is big and it beats hard.

One more strangled whimper from the boy dangling in the air in front of him, eyes big and scared.

And Stiles knows he won’t be able to leave that boy behind. He wouldn’t have even before he had first hand evidence of the treatment the kid would receive. 

So he does what he does best.

He starts planning.

First things first, he needs to get the two boys already in his grasp to safety.

Second thing, would be to get Malcom away from the psychotic bitch.

No one gets left behind.

He wouldn’t be a Stilinski if he thought otherwise.

“I know you’re out here!” Yelled the druid, shaking Malcom and making the boy let out some more desperate noises. 

He felt something in him crack a little, like a small fisher opening up.

He had to stop himself flinching when he felt a familiar hand on his shoulder. He didn’t bother looking, he knew it wasn’t there. He could feel it though, feel the intent behind it, making his eyes flick towards Joel. He felt the anger and bitterness flow into his own body and curl up tightly around his own. The kind of anger that reminded him of the first time his dad had a close call at work after his mum died. The pure at a loss anger that had nowhere to go. His dad had to stop a 10 year old Stiles from sneaking into the stations holding cells a few weeks later when they caught the guy, a concoction of laxatives and other drugs he was hoping to get into his food…He surprised his dad and himself with that one. Looking back he knows it all stemmed from losing his mum and not being able to lose his dad as well. They had a long talk after that day… 

He felt Dylan let out a long sigh against his neck, the action the most sign of life he’d shown so far. Then another hand touched him and this one he didn’t recognise, but it felt safe and a comforting presence followed it. The two presence continued to surround him and Stiles wasn’t sure how to feel about it. 

When the idea of watching the druid slowly die in a pool of her own blood flooded his mind, the rush of emotion that followed it was enjoyment, he would enjoy the moment? Stiles didn’t know where the emotion came from but realised how messed up it was. He thought it would be more relieved than anything else and then he felt that emotion filter through as well. Stiles knew when it came to people he cared about he would go the extra mile.

And he was not going to let her get these kids, even if it meant at the risk of his own life.

Another strong feeling pulsed through him and Stiles fear was gone, replaced with resolve.

*-*

It all became a blur for Scott.

He had pushed forward, fuelled by the call from his Pack. From his Alpha.

It was a kind of euphoria he imagined being on drugs was like.

His adrenaline was shooting through the roof. He answered their call with a howl of his own and put his arm back into its socket as easy as taking a stretch. 

He let his wolf take over. It was a new feeling. He was so close earlier but now it was like his Alpha gave him permission, told him its okay. He’d be there to reel him back in. 

So he did. 

He felt the power surge through his body and pounced.

He knew he was bleeding, could tell he was hurt. But he couldn’t feel it. 

He wasn’t even taking in how the other man was doing it. 

He was too busy giving this druid something to really be afraid off. He was showing him exactly why crossing his family was the worst decision he ever made.

Time almost stood still as their fighting continued. The old man, moved in ways his age should have hindered. His pupils were dilated and much like Scott it was as if he was pumped full of drugs. Scott doesn’t think either would have lasted so long otherwise.

The pack broke the clearing a few minutes later just as Scott slashed at the druids face before he got a face full of dirt and his nose bashed in. 

He was thrown straight into Isaac who caught him with ease.

It was almost like passing the baton in track.

His body sagged heavily into his pack mate as his eyes connected with his Alpha.

The older male, gave him a silent nod and just like that all the extra energy coursing through him slipped away. 

He was left a pile of dead limbs hanging loose in his friend’s arms.

Isaac dragged him out of the way on a silent order.

Scott could see his Alpha engage with the Durack but it was all happening so fast.

Isaac all but hauled him over his shoulders like a hunted deer and started running away from the fight.

He could hear the snarls and snark remarks, and smell blood that now wasn’t just his own. 

“J-Jackson. We need to get Jackson.” He wheezed out, feeling his eyes droop heavily.

Isaac jumped moving his weight, jostling him as he went. “Stay with me Scott.”

“J-ack-s.” He wheezed again.

“He’s gone S-cott.” Isaacs’s voice betrayed him and cracked at the end, letting through his own emotions on the matter, a silent whine lingering in the air.

“No.” Scott demanded angrily, his thoughts clearer than just moments before.

Scott didn’t know why. He of all people should know his pack mate was dead. 

He was the one who heard his last breath.

Maybe it was the optimist always in him. Maybe it was the only thing keeping him sane.

Either way he refused to believe it was too late. 

He heard the fast approaching feet of Boyd and Erica before he saw them. They ran straight past the retreating Isaac with Scott practically on his shoulders. There forlorn side long looks that probably only lasted a second, felt as powerful as any words that could have been said.

They knew Scott was injured, they were worried but they needed to get to their Alpha. 

Scott wondered how bad he looked. His limbs were jelly and his head was cotton but he still couldn’t grasp his injuries.

Isaac paused a few moments after Boyd and Erica past them, settling Scott on the ground.

Scott let himself be man handled. Not quite caring that he was like a puppet with cut strings. 

He noted the brown-red matt of Isaacs’s usual golden locks.

“You need a shower.” He mumbled light heartedly at the other boy.

Isaac grimaced, running a hand threw his hair and smearing the liquid further into the arm of his sleeve. Now that Scott looked closer, the boy’s upper body was stained and covered in the stuff.

“Well if you weren’t werewolf Swiss cheese right now we wouldn’t be having this discussion.” He grumbled back sarcastically, masking his emotions.

Scott paused for a moment, his foggy brain trying to catch on.

Ahh.

And there it was. That was his blood.

His blood and Jacksons.

Jackson.

“We need to get Jackson!” He tried to force himself to sit up, only to have a hand push him back down.

Isaac looked pained, like he didn’t know how to deal with any of this, like half of him wanted to follow Scott’s demand but the other half knew it was a bad idea.

“Stop moving.” He grumbled. “You’re in no shape to do anything.”

Isaac stopped his scolding to turn his head to the side. He took a deep breath and turned to Scott, the distress blatant in his features.

“Allison and Lydia are here.” He whispered, turning to look over Scott’s shoulder.

Scott felt himself start to drift into unconsciousness. 

“Fuck!” Isaac curses as Scott eyes drift close. “Don’t you do this to me man!”

He grabbed Scott’s face in his hand and tried to stir him awake. His bleeding had slowed down and his wounds were slowly starting to heal. If it wasn’t for Isaac’s super human hearing and the steady thrum of Scott’s heart, Isaac thinks he may have lost it then and there.

He could feel Scott’s stress as soon as he broke the tree line into the preserve. He wasn’t expecting to feel a gaping whole tear open in his chest when the pack bond strengthened, nearly braining himself on a low hanging branch before Derek pulled him out the way. It was almost like someone clawed at his chest and cut a life line. It felt amplified the closer he stood to Derek and wondered how the older male was still standing, knowing well he felt it much more intensely. . He’d T’d up with Derek a few minutes before they broke past suburbia. He was already on his way to find the Alpha when he got the call. He’d decided to leave Peter to his nap, to anxious himself to get in anything more than a few minutes.

He was glad he’d made the decision. He didn’t think his Alpha needed to go through that alone.

Not again.

The instincts to stick close to his Alpha were magnified and he didn’t question it when Derek let out a furious pained howl before pulling him in and sagging loosely into his side. Isaac answered in kind, all his conflicted heavy emotions spilling into the call, holding his Alpha tight as the heavy air settled around them.

Jackson was gone.

Jackson, the guy who liked to piss everyone off just to get a reaction. The one who had a suspicion about his dad but didn’t tell anyone. The one who pretty much ignored him unless it was necessary. Jackson who’d sneak the good pain killers into Isaac’s locker when he thought no one was watching, after each time Isaac would try to hide his limp in PE. Jackson who started walking past his own place on his way back from middle school keeping 20 passes back from Isaac after he walked in on Greenburg threatening him in the locker rooms about jumping him after school. The guy who acted like it was nothing out of the ordinary, only to turn around as soon as Isaac closed his front door. At first he thought Jackson was out to get him himself, he was too afraid to ask. He pretended not to notice the black eye Greenburg held the day after Isaac heard him call his name on his trek home. He didn’t stop to check and ran the rest of the way. When he looked out his window, no one was there. Not even Jackson. Greenburg only used his words after that day.

The moment didn’t last long, his Alpha stood rigid, blood red eyes burning and wild anger seeping through the bond lines like a dam bursting slowly, then all at once. They starting running again, sticking as close together as possible without restricting their speed or movement. He was practically breathing down the other man’s neck.

Neither cared. 

They ran with purpose.

Isaac didn’t get a chance to take in his surroundings. Scott was thrown into him and the next second he was given the silent order to retreat. He didn’t get a chance to look for Jackson. To see for himself what he already knew. He was conflicted. Wanting to help his Alpha, help his friend and sate his need to find his fallen comrade. He didn’t hate Jackson. It was weird to think about, especially at such a time. He’d never thought of the other as more than an ally but he supposes they’ve always had their own understanding of sorts. He wishes he’d had the chance to prod the others mind as to why he did what he did. It all felt too late.

He got Scott out of there. The feeling of warm liquid trickling down his back as he carried him away was enough to stop him turning around and joining his pack members when they ran by.

Now here he was, watching over his nearly unconscious friend. Waiting for the inevitable fall out from Allison seeing him like this and Lydia finding out the inevitable truth.

He wasn’t good with these things. He was good at taking orders and pretending not to care. This was all too real for him. 

“Isaac?” Came Lydia’s strong voice a few meters away.

He snapped his attention from his injured friend and made eye contact with the high school queen stalking towards him. Allison was just behind her, bow at the ready, keeping an eye on their surroundings. Isaac swallowed dryly, picking the moment Lydia got close enough to see Scott on the floor below him. Her heart beat picked up and she took in a sharp breath coming to a halt. 

“Scott...” She whispered, a look of panic crossing her face before she steeled it away.

Allison’s head snapped forward as the name fell of her friend’s lips. She didn’t hesitate in stepping past Lydia and throwing herself down next to Isaac. He could smell the heavy emotions rolling off her in waves but she kept it all at bay.

“Scott?” Allison spoke firmly, running a hand over his face. 

Scott’s eye’s blinked open tiredly. 

“Allison?” He whispered, a small smile creeping up his face.

The girl next to him finally let her features move and she choked out a cry of relief, leaning down to cradle her partners head and hold him close. Scott lifted up a weak bloody arm, letting it fall across her back and holding her in return. After a moment Allison leaned back, wiping the tears from her face and pulling herself back together.

“I’m okay.” Scott croaked, bringing a heavy hand up to wipe the remainder of her tears away.

She gave him a sad smile.

“You don’t look okay.”

“I am, I promise.” He mumbled back, giving her another crooked smile. “It looks worse than it is.”

His wounds were nearly closed but he’d lost a lot of blood and Isaac wasn’t sure how true Scott’s words really were.

He was covered in blood and it looked pretty bad, he’d understand why Allison was sceptical.

“Isaac.” Lydia said sternly, getting his attention. “Where’s Jackson?”

He looked away from the pair and back to the red head now standing in front of him. He felt Allison pause at his side, her eyes flicking between them both. Isaac felt backed into a corner and couldn’t help but let out a pained noised. 

“Isaac!” She spoke more firmly this time, letting slip some of the desperation in her voice. “Where is he?” She demanded.

Isaac looked down to Scott who was watching the exchange and at Allison whose body was stiff with anticipation. It didn’t take a genius to understand his reluctance… A tense few second passed between them all.

“Lydia, I-He-“

“No.” She cut him off, tears welling in her eyes.

Isaac looked back to Allison who was keeping quiet and Scott who had a sad look in his eyes.

“He’s gone.” He choked out, finally bringing himself to look Lydia in the eyes.

Lydia’s face went through a variety of different emotions, her fist slowly clenching at her side, the air around them growing heavy.

“Lydia.” Allison called, moving to stand up, her features calm and caring.

“No.” Lydia said again, batting away the hand Allison reached out to her, her shoulders shaking from the onslaught of emotions. “He can’t be.” 

“Lydia,-“ He went to start again, trying to get the girl to understand.

Isaac never felt the world so heavy on his shoulder as he did in this moment.

“No.” She cut him off again, her eyes looking around the clearing frantically. “I need to get to him, I need to.”

“Lydia.” Allison started again, moving closer. “It’s okay, we-“

“Stop!” Lydia yelled, the sound bouncing around the clearing.

Her eyes turned angry towards her friends and Isaac felt lost. 

“I’m not crazy! I’m not just some deranged girlfriend in denial!” She ground out, looking between Isaac and Allison. “You don’t get it. I’m a banshee.”

Isaac and Allison made eye contact and something in Allison must have clicked.

“You didn’t scream…” She mumbled, turning back towards Lydia.

Lydia looked minutely relieved that someone finally understood, her eyes as determined as ever.

“Exactly, he’s not dead, but…I can feel it, feel the scratching in my throat… We need to find him now.” She demanded, her attention aimed at Isaac.

Allison nodded her head and turned back towards Scott.

“Knew it wasn’t too late.” He coughed out, smiling towards Isaac.

Isaac felt old beyond his years as all three faces were looking at him expectantly. He was ordered to get Scott away, keep him safe but if there was a chance they could get Jackson back…Surely Derek would want them to do it. 

“Scott needs to get to Deaton’s.” He sighed, looking at the girls.

Allison frowned looking down at her boyfriend and back at Lydia torn. They all knew Isaac was the only one who could get him there. The two girls seemed to be having a full conversation through eye contact alone and Isaac took a moment to check on Scott. The boy was a little out of it but still paying attention. His eyes followed Isaac as he tried to gage how his wounds were doing. 

“They don’t smell right.” He mumbled quiet enough so that only Scott could hear. 

Scott grasped his wrist tightly.

“You should go.” Scott spoke loudly pulling the girls out of there trance and connecting eyes with Isaac. 

Isaac frowned at the boy, knowing full well he heard him

“Trust me, I’ll be okay.” He spoke firmly, honestly, pleading to Isaac with his eyes.

He was asking him to go. He was asking him to leave him. He was asking him to not let them know that something wasn’t right. 

“Please.” He spoke again, clearer and with another squeeze of his wrist.

“Scott?” Allison asked, kneeling back down next to him.

“I’ll be fine.” He promised her. “Go with them, help keep them safe.”

“Are you sure? I could stay?” 

Allison held Scott’s head in her hands, trying to read him through his eyes.

“You should go. Isaac won’t be able to move Jackson and protect Lydia.”

Allison nodded slowly, turning her eyes back towards the others.

“Shall we then?” She asked the two.

Lydia looked relieved, sending what could only be a thank you look to Scott. 

Isaac had an internal debate for a few more seconds until he finally caved in. 

“Okay.”

“You don’t know what we’re about to walk into do you?” Allison asked him.

“Not really, but I know it won’t be good.” He finished by glancing down at Scott who gave him a tired thumbs up.

“You guys got this. I’ll be here waiting.”

“We need to get going.” Lydia broke in.

Allison and Isaac nodded. He gave the couple a moment and Lydia came to rest her hand on his arm.

‘Thank you’ she mouthed silently. 

Isaac gave her a tight smile in response. Once the goodbyes were done Isaac pulled himself together, biting back the fear of the unknown and the worry for his friends. He turned in the direction he came from and started jogging. He didn’t need to look back to know the girls were following him, Lydia’s feet were picking up passé and Allison trailed behind her watching their backs.

Isaac swallowed the sick feeling in his stomach as they left Scott to his fate alone. His only reassurance that he was doing what the boy wanted and they might have a chance at bringing back Jackson. He just hopes this decision doesn’t lose them two pack members, he doesn’t know if they could handle that. 

He listens to Scott’s steady heartbeat until he’s out of range and then changes his focus, listening out for the fighting. He frowns a little the closer they get, they’ve moved. Further into the preserve from the sounds of it. He can hear his pack member’s growls in the distant and cringes when the smell of their blood, he thinks mainly Erica’s hits his senses the closer they get. It’s nothing compared to the overwhelming smell of blood that could only be from Scott and Jackson.

He hurries the girls on, neither protesting. He hangs back to help them both a few times, to get over logs and climb up the piled up earth. He’s not sure he wants to know, how the druids managed to make the place look more and more like a meteorite had hit the closer they get. Between the three of them nothing is said and only the girls panting can be heard above the crunch of their footsteps. He can tell Lydia is struggling but again, she doesn’t complain once and keeps up a decent passé. 

They just about reach the clearing and Isaac sticks his arm out bringing them to a stop. The girls don’t question him, Lydia stands still watching on and Allison brings her bow up to check their surroundings. Isaac tilts his head to the side and listens for any movements. He gives them a silent stay still motion and goes the few extra meters in front. He ducks past a tree and scans the area. The evidence of fighting is blatant, upturned earth, broken trees and then he sees him. Jacksons body leaning against a pile of dirt and a broken tree stump off to the side. It looks like he was dragged from the centre, a trail left in the sand. 

He tries not to think about the heartbeat that’s not there. The smell of blood and lingering scent of fear and anger filled the area. He let out a low whistle signalling the OK and it didn’t take long for the girls to catch up. He was already next to Jackson, checking him over, his own heart deep in his throat. He couldn’t taste the stench of death that he was use to around the cemetery but his pack member was cold and lifeless, body cut, bruised and battered. 

“Jackson!” Lydia screamed, running so fast she nearly toppled over them both as she flung herself at the boy.

Isaac moved, giving the girl some room, leaning back unsure as to what to do next. Allison stood behind him, her bow at her side, a look of dread on her face. He wonders if she’s regretting leaving Scott for what seems such an obvious lost cause. 

“Are we safe?” Allison asks breaking her eyes away from the body on the ground and scanning the area.

“For now.” Isaac mumbled.

Lydia ran her hands all over his body, ignoring the blood and grime rubbing into her skin.

“He’s not dead.” She muttered over and over to herself as she almost stradled him, holding his head in her hands.

“Jackson? Can you hear me?” She spoke desperately, running her hands through his hair.

Isaac ignored his own feelings. He was use to dead bodies, dead bodies he could handle. He tried to pretend Jackson’s body was just another and not someone he knew. It was the only way he was going to be able to deal with it. Allison moved to put a hand on Lydia’s shoulder.

“Lydia?” She whispered, trying to get the girls attention.

Allison looked a little sick herself, probably just as unsure as Isaac. You don’t expect to have to deal with this as a teenager. Lydia, hushed the boy underneath her, the smell of her salty tears making it hard for Isaac to stay partial. 

“He’s not dead. He’s not. He can’t be. He’s not.” She cried, pulling Jackson’s body into her own.

Lydia rocked them both and Isaac sat back and watched Allison wipe away her own tears before grabbing her best friend.

“Lydia!” Allison said purposefully. 

Lydia, looked at her best friend with all the grief in the world pooring out her soul through her eyes. Isaac nearly wolfed out just from the sheer intensity and it wasn’t even directed at him.  
“I-I’m sorry.” Allison cried, her hand shaking as she pulled the other girl into her chest, hugging her from behind.

Lydia stayed connected to Jackson but Allison didn’t care and wrapped her hands tightly around them both, squeezing with all her might. Her eyes were crammed tight and the girl tried to hold them together through sheer force as their world came apart at the seams. Lydia let out one more sob into Jackson’s shoulder, before going still. Isaac had all of two seconds, his instincts moving him before anything else. He just managed to pull Allison roughly away in time and get them a few feet, covering the other with his body as his own arms went up to his head.

Then Lydia screamed.

Isaac could feel the sheer force of it go through his whole body, making him shiver and quake. His ears were screaming in return and he wasn’t sure if it was Scott’s blood or his own he could feel on his hands. Allison was underneath him curled up much the same but she was cramming her head into his shoulder, using him like a shield.

Finally, after what felt like eternity, the screaming stopped. 

Both Allison and Isaac were panting. He pulled back a bit giving the brunette some room and trying to get his breathing underway. He felt exhausted, like his whole body just ran a werewolf marathon. His ear were ringing and he looked around disorientated. He felt a hand on his head, rubbing his ear and looked down to see blood covering Allison’s hand. She looked up at Isaac concerned but Isaac had a frown of his own as he moved to sit up. 

“You’re bleeding.” He spoke, his voice almost a whisper to his own ears.

She looked at him confused, motioning to her ears and shaking her head. He pulled up his shirt and wiped under nose, bringing the material down to show her. She frowned, wiping at her face.

“Your ears too.” He said gesturing to his own, his voice much louder now.

She picked up her hands and dabbed the blood on each side of her head. She turned to him and motioned at his eyes. 

“There blood shot.” She mumbled, looking confused before saying it again louder.

Isaac winced the second time, the octave too much for his healing ears. She cringed back and mouthed sorry.

The exchange lasted for less than a minute and Isaac was about to ask if she was okay, getting ready to listen to her heartbeat for a lie when he froze.

His hearing was still off but he heard it anyway.

There were four heartbeats in the clearing.

Isaac jumped up fast and wolfed out. He looked for Lydia immediately, his senses thrown but ready for a fight and to protect his pack members. It took him less than a second to pinpoint the red head and his soul nearly left his body in shock.

There she was, leaning over Jackson, tears still streaming down her face but now she was wearing the biggest, brightest smile. Isaac heard the gasp from Allison as she came to stand next to him, watching on as well.

Jackson was half propped up using one elbow with the other arm circling around the petite girl’s body. His skin was still pale and sickly, his breathing still quiet and uneven but his heart. His heart was beating strong. Isaac and Allison approached quickly each taking a side next to the pair. 

“Jackson?” Isaac whispered in disbelief. 

His inner wolf was tearing at the walls wanting to crowd his friend, his pack. He felt the tightness in his chest that he now associated with the pack bond, it felt wrong. He held back, taking a deep breath and breathing in the scent of the other. He smelt wrong, but he smelt alive. Isaac let out a quite whine and before he knew it there was a rough hand grabbing his collar and pulling him close. Jackson pulled Isaac into the small space between Lydia and himself and let out a low rumble into Isaac’s chest. Isaac moved his arms to lean either side of Jackson not wanting to crush him and crowded his head down into the others hair, a low rumble of his own escaping his lips. He felt Jackson rub his cheek against his shoulder and Isaac couldn’t stop himself from doing the same to the boys head. Lydia’s hand were light on Isaac’s back, trying to give them room without moving away. Isaac let his wolf inner wolf have its moment and the tightness in his chest lessened dramatically. 

Jackson was alive.

His pack mate was alive. 

Once both got their fill Isaac leaned away, trying to ignore the blush he was sure he was sporting. It’s not like both boys are ever affectionate with each other. It was definitely a werewolf thing. Jackson didn’t look at him but grunted when he moved, letting out a deep sigh and resting back down. Lydia crowded back over him and Allison watched on from the side a smile on her face.

“How is this even possible?” Isaac asked, listening to the steady beat of Jackson’s heart.

“I heard her.” Jackson scratched out, his voice raspy and raw.

Lydia smiled down at him and then a grimaced formed on her face.

“You saved him.” Allison near laughed in disbelief.

“Sort of.” Lydia responded.

Three eyes turned her way.

“Sort of?” Isaac’s voice raised in question.

Lydia turned to them, a sad look in her eye.

“I saved him, it’s true. I’m not too sure how yet but I felt it. I was calling to him, but…”

“But what?” Allison sat straight concerned, her eyes strongly on her friend.

Lydia swallowed slowly. “Someone’s going to die.”

“What!” Allison and Isaac said in unison.

“Who?!” Allison rushed, the fear evident in her eyes.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know.” She spoke honestly. “But it won’t be long now.”

A long silence spread between them.

“We need to go.” Isaac hurried, standing up.

No one paused to tell him otherwise and both girls moved so Isaac could help Jackson. He heaved the other boy up and Lydia helped him get Jackson’s arm around his shoulder. Isaac’s placed his arm around Jackson’s waist taking most his weight. He ignored the clammy feel of the other boy’s skin and started heading back towards Scott.

“I’m going ahead.” Allison called over her shoulder as she brushed past, moving into a run.

“Allison!” Lydia called from the other side of Jackson.

Allison ignored her though and was out of sight in no time.

“Think you can handle me speeding up?” Isaac asked looking at Jackson.

Jackson grunted slipping a cocky smile onto his face. “Please Lahey, we both know this is nothing.”

Isaac scoffed, not even pretending to be offended. If he wasn’t leaching pain from the other right now, he doesn’t think Jackson would even be standing. He noted Jackson watching Lydia out of the corner of his eye and decided not to bring it up.

“We’re heading to Scott right?” he asked quietly.

Isaac nodded.

“Then let’s move our arses already.” 

Isaac didn’t need to be told twice and picked up speed as best he could. 

Half way there Jackson started swaying, giving in to his injuries and passed out. Isaac took on his whole weight and stopped them for a moment.

“He’s fine.” He comforted Lydia, hauling the other boy awkwardly over his shoulder much like he had with Scott earlier.

A loud bang echoed through the preserve, the ground shaking slightly in its wake. Isaac and Lydia paused to share a look of concern.

Nothing was said but they both picked up their passé again, the forest dead silent around them. 

Isaac tried to squash the fear he could feel creeping up his spine. He didn’t like not knowing where his pack was and not knowing what was happening to them, or really just not knowing what was going to happen full stop. He kept himself calm listening to Jackson’s heart beat steadily in his chest and chose to ignore the scent of the same fear coming of the red head next to him.

He could only hope things got better from here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Omg, So the story continues!  
> I have so much more planned in my head that I haven't even got to yet, hinting and otherwise and it's just the half of it. I feel like this is going to be a giant story unless I make it a series. D:
> 
> I'd just like to apologize again for the terribly late update, lack of proof reading ect. I've been sick for 3 weeks now and with out internet for nearly 2! I'm going crazy, seriously. I may or may not be doing some serious Yoga just to get reception so I can hotspot with my phone. Don't say I don't love you guys. XD
> 
> Thank you so much for your Kudos and comments, they are much appreciated. You guys keep me going!  
> Let me know what you think of this chapter. *fingers crossed* it's not too bad. I feel like I may need to go back and fix it up at some point.
> 
> Also, I'm looking for a beta if anyone is interested, let me know. :)  
> _______________________________________  
> ****  
> Okay ladies and gents I have people messaging me asking if I plan on continuing this story and the answer is yes!!  
> Very much yes!  
> I just didn't expect it to get so big and not be finished yet haha  
> I planned it to be finished a while ago but at the moment I'm working a snow season in Victoria Australia and mountain life is all work and play when you can!  
> That play generally means snowboarding when I get a chance. I live in a room with 3 other people so it's hard to find my own time.  
> So I'm sorry I don't have a chapter out yet, I'll try my best but be patient with me. :)  
> Thanks again for reading and all the support!!!! <3  
> The gentle nudges help. haha

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Fanart](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6733489) by [whedonwheezes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/whedonwheezes/pseuds/whedonwheezes)




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